Chaos Is Upon Us
by BEinferno26
Summary: Charlie grew up thinking her Uncle Miles died during the first years of the Blackout and thinks the General Matheson is unrelated to her. What happens when the militia captures her family and she manages to escape them to ultimately become a militia soldier at the young age of 14?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter I: The World Is Full Of Assholes

Charlie grew up in a small village with her dad, mom, and brother. Since the blackout, the world was in a constant state of disarray, scarred by the endless wars and shifting political powers. Growing up in the Monroe Republic was certainly no piece of cake. The abusive and all powerful militia overtaxed and terrorized the population. The girl had only a few pre-blackout memories: her birthday, visiting her new born brother in the hospital, ice cream, and her uncles.

As a child he hadn't known that the blond man at her Uncle Miles' side wasn't actually his brother. She had always thought he was part of the family. She vaguely remembered them coming over for the holidays and for barbecues in the summer. Of course, the memories were all clipped and blurry. She could find no pictures of them in the house and her parents never spoke about them. Asking about them was a bit of a taboo within the family. Rachel explained to her daughter that it was because they had both died during the early years of the blackout, which obviously brought tremendous pain to her father Ben, but also because the head of the militia happened to have the same name as her Uncle Miles. "Naturally, we wouldn't want other people to think we are associated with the Monroe government in any way", explained Rachel to her children. Young Charlie thought it made sense, but, as she grew up, she started questioning her mother's words. Erasing her uncle altogether seemed quite an extreme thing to do, even if the Militia general bore the same name as her uncle. The fact that there were no pictures of him disturbed her the most.

Nonetheless, Charlie and Danny both grew up quite happily in their sheltered community. They split their time between the village school that Aaron, a family friend and former millionaire (whatever that entailed), ran and exploring the area surrounding their village. Charlie was a great shot with a crossbow and often went hunting for animals and pre-blackout items. Going too far from the community was much too dangerous but Charlie kept saying she would leave to see the world one day. Danny, weakened by his asthma attacks, was much more demure by nature. Nothing could have prepared Charlie for the truth.

When she was 14 years old, Militia officers came to Sylvania Estates looking for Ben and Rachel Matheson. Although the community was very tight knit and refused to give them away, finding out where they lived took almost no time. When they came Charlie was hunting. She saw them from afar, hiding in the woods nearby her house. There was nothing she could do against so many men. She heard the officer loudly announce that President Monroe and General Matheson had been looking for the rest of the General's family for years: their services were required in Philadelphia. In order to spare Charlie, her parents lied and said she had died of disease a few years back. Fortunately, the men didn't think to look upstairs where Charlie's room, filled with her personal belongings, clearly told another story.

The soldiers left with her entire family but the young girl didn't dare go back to her house by fear that they would come back or that the villagers, who had just found out the seemingly nice Matheson family was related to the dictatorship in power, would turn her in. Naturally, finding out the horrible truth had been a terrible shock to Charlie. At first there was too much information to actually process any of it. But during the first night she spent in the forest, the memories of anything related to her uncle came back to her. She felt horror at learning that the nice uncle that she believed was dead had become a feared General. She didn't remember the name of the blond curly haired man she vaguely remembered coming to their house. All her attention was focused on the devastating piece of news that had shattered her entire life: Her uncle was a terrible man who had just kidnapped her entire family. She was all alone and powerless to do anything.

After wandering in the forest for a few weeks, Charlie had the misfortune of being taken prisoner by recruiters. They were gangs who captured children and teenagers in order to sell them into slavery. She could have ended up slaving away in plantations, servicing clients in a whorehouse, or fighting in the militia. At age 14, Charlie was quite small and thin; she hadn't developed any womanly attributes yet and she didn't seem like she would be any good working away in the fields. She was feisty though, a fact that didn't escape her captors. She kicked and screaming and tried to escape several times.

"Since you like fighting we'll send you somewhere where you can fight. A feisty bitch like you will fit right in at the Militia training camp. They'll have a great time beating you into submission" laughed one of the men.

That's how Charlie ended up entering the militia against her will. She gave them a fake name and hoped to find the right time to leave one day. Getting branded was the worst thing. It hurt like hell and she felt like an animal: branded and owned by a man who cared nothing for his soldiers. Nevertheless, she bid her time and trained hard with the other soldiers, hoping to stay inconspicuous. She managed to stay hidden in the shadows for 2 years.

At age 16, things changed quite a bit for her. First of all, her garrison was ordered to go to Philadelphia to provide additional security to the government. Secondly, she was no longer a scrawny little girl. Granted, she was still very thin thanks to the intense training and the frequent food shortage people had to endure. She had grown into her facial features and she was now considered to be very attractive. She had big blue eyes and wavy dark blond hair. Her body was very fit and her small but defined curves made her look womanly. She could no longer fit in and hope to be forgotten. Everywhere she went, men slowly started to take notice. Her life became more dangerous as she fought off unwanted advances. Saying no to superiors was an especially dangerous thing to do. They could make your life a living hell. Charlie fought as long as she possibly could. But at one point she was forced to give in.

Commander Davidson had tried to get her to sleep with him for some time. At first, he attempted to ask nicely by doing her small favours, such as better food and gifts. Seeing that she wasn't about to give in he started ordering his men to torment her, even going so far as to withhold food from her. In his opinion, Commander Davidson really wasn't such a bad man by post-blackout standards. He really didn't want to resort to raping her but his obsession with the young woman made it impossible for him to accept defeat. One night, he sent his men to retrieve her and bring her to his quarters. As she stood there, still wearing her nightwear, he asked her if she had reconsidered his proposal. Once again, she refused. Waving his hand in false amusement, the commander ordered his men to bring in Charlie's only friend: Jason. Jason was the only one that didn't try to take advantage of her. He was just there for her, without expecting anything in return. She suspected that what she felt for him might go beyond simple friendship but this was no time to consider such matters. There was her friend, bound and gagged, staring at the commander with rage. The sight wracked her with guilt.

"You either do what I ask or I will make him scream in pain and agony. He will get no food and no rest from the pain I will inflict upon him. However, my dear, his fate ultimately rests in your hands." threatened Davidson.

Charlie had no choice but to submit to him. She couldn't stand for her friend to be tortured because of her. That is how Charlie found herself in a less than ideal situation to say the least. Commander Davidson basically ordered her to be his mistress, all her military duties forgone. She stopped living with the other soldiers to be kept inside the Commander's quarters at all times, day and night. During the day, she was "officially" assigned to his personal security and at night, she had to submit to his sexual whims. She didn't know how she ever got used to this life of shame and misery, being forced into intimacy with a cruel man who easily turned to violence.

Her first sexual experience had been nothing like she had imagined or hoped for. The commander knew she was a virgin and acknowledged it but it remained traumatic and painful. The moment she accepted to be his puppet to save Jason, the men took Jason away, silently begging and screaming at Charlie not to do it. Once only the commander and Charlie remained in the room he poured himself and Charlie a drink. She soon felt the effects of alcohol on her unaccustomed body. He poured himself a second glass. He then proceeded to disrobing her, groping her roughly at the same time. Pushing her on the bed, he kissed her and probed her body while whispering horrible and dirty things into her ear. Charlie's brain couldn't process the things that were happening to her. She was under the influence of alcohol and terror. Her mind was spinning out of control. She didn't want her first time to be with him but alcohol made struggling difficult; she had trouble even thinking straight. He kissed her to muffle any protests.

He smelled like Whiskey.

She always drove him mad with desire with the way she unknowingly swayed her hips while walking. She looked even better undressed than he had imagined. She tried to get away from him but he was holding her down. When he turned to the nightstand to take a sip of Whiskey she kicked him off of her and tried to get away, but he got a hold of her legs and dragged her back. She struggled to get free herself and he violently slapped her. Charlie fell on the bed, her hand holding the side of her face and wishing for the slight ringing sound in her ears to stop. She was used to pain but not like this, this was the kind of physical and mental pain that disoriented her completely.

This man must have been around 40 years old while she was only 16, his strength easily overpowering hers. His violent gesture left her in such shock that she stopped moving altogether. He spread her legs wide and went about his business. He pushed past her barrier with a grunt. Charlie had never thought it would be so incredibly humiliating. The pain was multiplied by the humiliation, shame, and anger she felt. She felt tears running down her face as the man thrusted into her rhythmically, filling the room with grunts and sighs of contentment. She simply wished it would stop. Fortunately, the commander didn't take too long to finish. With a satisfied groan, he rolled off of her. "Don't worry, the next time won't be as painful." smirked the Commander. His facial expression made her want to throw up in utter revulsion. Charlie cried silently until she fell asleep from sheer mental exhaustion.

Days and nights passed until the pain she felt was either only in her heart or when he voluntarily tried to hurt her. Every morning, the maids would silently help her bathe and clean up the rooms. A few months after she became his unwilling mistress, William Davidson got promoted. Part of his promotion package was being moved to new quarters within Independence Hall, right next to General Matheson and President Monroe. By then, Charlie spent a lot of her time drinking. It was the only way for her to escape from reality. She barely noticed the change of residence. She hardly ever left the room anyway.

William Davidson didn't exactly prohibit her from moving around as she pleased now that he felt reassured she would not try to flee but becoming a sex slave had snuffed the life out of the now almost 17 year old. She spent her days staring into nothingness. She never thought about the fact that her uncle's room was a corridor from hers. Running into his arms for protection was not even considered. Her old life was so far away. Besides, she had no idea what the President or General Matheson even looked like.

One day, Davidson stormed into the room with news. "There is going to be a ball for General Matheson's birthday. You will accompany as my guest" informed Colonel Davidson.

"Why? You've never taken me anywhere before."

"It will look better if I bring a date. We're going to put you in a pretty dress and you're going to be at my side for the ball, whether you like it or not."

She didn't even protest. She didn't really care as long as he didn't hit her. Her life had become a simple equation to keep her away from painful situations: pain or no pain. The choice was so simple after all. He usually only beat her when she resisted or when he was mad about something. Usually work. On the day of the ball, the maids helped her bathe and wash her hair. They brushed it until her blonde waves shone beautifully down her back. They dressed her with a beautiful floor-length deep blue dress with an empire waist and low neckline. She looked at herself in the mirror. Even she had to admit she looked beautiful, even with the vacant expression she wore.

Colonel William Davidson took a good look at her, unused to seeing his bed mate dressed up. She really was a beautiful young woman.


	2. Chapter 2

Pushing Me To The Edge

General Miles Matheson's birthday party was a grand affair. Charlie had never seen such elaborate decorations. The melodic sound of crystal glasses clinking resounded elegantly in the ball room. On the way to the festivities, Charlie finally took the time to properly look at her new home. She noticed the old paintings hanging in the grand halls, the ornate ceilings, the different stairways, and, amongst other things, potential exit routes. The soldier persona beaten into her during her two years of service in the Militia seemed to somehow be surviving underneath the surface. Noticing exits, weapons, or handy objects that could serve to attack an opponent were just a habit that had been drilled into her. She did it automatically.

She longed to become a soldier once again, to be part of a group, to feel like Charlie again. Often fantasizing about murdering Davidson, she enjoyed imagining killing him in a bunch of different ways. Of course, he had to die painfully: this loathsome creature needed to know how miserable he had made her. Unfortunately that dream couldn't come true. Her captor was a powerful man, a Colonel of the Militia. Even plotting his death would be sufficient to get executed. Knowing all of this, Charlie decided she would kill Davidson on the day she decided to take her own life. When life became an unnecessary burden, she would take him with her, and in that gesture, give a gift to all women. It made her sick to think of some other girl taking her place.

The young woman didn't think she could escape. She no longer possessed the strength. But just in case, she checked the exits and evaluated the security level. Naturally, a big event would mean reinforced security measures.

At the party, a waiter handed Charlie and Davidson drinks. Charlie gulped hers down quickly and hoped to get it refilled soon. They were serving the good stuff, no bootlegger shit here. The rich and powerful have apparently hoarded a ton of pre-blackout booze. She didn't know it but she had just downed a very expensive flute of champagne.

Davidson was currently talking to two men named Baker and Strausser. She didn't like the way Strausser looked at her. His cold eyes looked as if snakes inhabited his mind. William Davidson was trying hard to seem charming in front of the two other men. She could tell it was a facade because he acted exactly like that the first time she met him.

Slowly she took a step to the side and distanced herself from the group of men to find something to eat. She soon ran into a waiter who refilled her champagne glass and gave her a snack. She had no idea what it actually was but she devoured it anyway. It felt greasy on her tongue but the taste wasn't too horrible. The young woman decided to go out and stroll through the gardens in the hopes of finding a good spot to sit and drink in peace.

The gardens, surrounded by the residence walls, were luscious and fragrant. She could hear the

music playing inside as a cool summer breeze carried it out to her. Summer was definitely her favourite season. She used to go fishing with Danny and her dad when she was little. She was alone now. Most people were still inside networking or trying to have a word with the president or the general. Charlie had not seen either of them. Meeting her Uncle was something she didn't want to think about.

Sitting on a bench, she looked at the gleaming water of a fountain while reminiscing about her last summer in Sylvania Estates. Her mom had gotten so mad at them for pushing her into the lake. Her angry face made Charlie smile now. Were they still alive now? Thinking of Danny's brilliant smile made her eyes water. Her brother had always been so fragile. She hoped he was happy, wherever he was. Brushing her tears aside, she noticed someone was watching her.

"I thought I was the only one who would come here" said the man in the shadows.

Charlie didn't say anything at first. She tried to figure out if she had seen him before.

"I wanted some air"

He came out and Charlie could finally distinguish his features in the moonlight. He was around Davidson's age but taller. She didn't quite trust men of that age. Actually, she didn't trust men at all anymore. He had short curly hair and pleasant facial features. The moonlight wasn't at its brightest so she couldn't see him very well. He wasn't part of Davidson's group of "friends".

"Mind if I sit?" smiled the man.

Charlie made a noncommittal gesture and he took a seat next to her.

"So, I've never seen you before" started blondie.

Charlie laughed internally. Was he actually trying that tired old line?

"Oh so, you're the silent mocking type" he continued when he saw the ghost of a smile on her pretty face.

Bass was pretty stunned. This woman didn't seem to know who he was at all. That rarely happened anymore. Even in the dim lighting she looked beautiful. Even more surprising, she didn't seem interested. Most women latched on to him the moment he spoke to them. She was looking at him from the corner of her eyes though. "What's your name?" he enquired.

"Charlene, but people have always called me Charlie" replied Charlie, her gaze still fixated on the water.

"I'm Bass. So Charlie, what are you doing out here when the party's inside?" He intentionally avoided using his actual name. Being just Bass always made things more interesting.

"The person I came here with is busy talking about things I'm not interested in. What about you?" She turned to look at him. She could stand the small talk. Not much else to do.

"Well my best friend just found his woman of the night. He's busy."

"I see. So you're left all alone. Poor you."

Talking got easier the more you did it. Charlie was not exactly a great conversationalist but he didn't seem threatening and talking to someone who didn't know her circumstances was a welcome novelty.

Bass let out a short laugh at her sassy comment. Maybe he had also found his woman for the night. Miles leaving him alone looked like a blessing in disguise after all. Her long blond hair shone in the moonlight and she looked very alluring in that dress. He was sure he had never seen her before; he would have noticed her.

"I could say the same about you. So your boyfriend is more interested in work than you?" mocked Bass.

"He's not my boyfriend" replied Charlie with a slight grimace.

"Would you care to go inside and dance with me?" smiled Bass.

"I can't dance. At all. So I'd rather not do that."

"That's okay. I'm not that good either. My best friend is the really good dancer. That's how he gets all the girls."

"Oh so that's why you're always left on your own." laughed Charlie.

"This is a special occasion. I was actually trying to get away from all my admirers."

"Yeah, it's the same for me."

"I'm not surprised."

Charlie blushed a little at the barely veiled compliment. She could almost believe she was a normal girl flirting with a guy. Unfortunately she was like Cinderella, needing to go back to reality. Davidson was probably wondering where she was. She tensed at the thought that he might be angry because she had sneaked off without a word.

She stood up, a slight tremble in her legs. She hoped Bass hadn't noticed that. She turned back to him. He was looking up at her with wide eyes.

"I'm sure he's expecting me inside. I should go."

"Wait a minute. What's the hurry?" asked Bass with a disappointed face.

"Sorry. I'm sure I've made him..huh…worry."

"I don't even know your last name."

"Pittman. I really should go inside now. You should too, maybe you'll find a girl like your friend."

She left with those words.

"I thought I had" whispered Bass after she'd left.

She looked even more beautiful standing than sitting. He could see her better that way. He also noticed her worried expression. Bass waited a few more minutes in the gardens. When he went inside, he looked around to catch a proper glance of Charlene and the guy she was with but she was nowhere to be seen. Naturally Bass didn't know she was just a few floors up, going back to her room with Davidson.

He was furious.

He never shouted, but Charlie could feel the rage. The moment he spotted her, he grabbed her by

the elbow and dragged her out of the ballroom. Just outside the door he slammed her against the wall and whispered in her ear.

"I thought I had been clear about what was expected of you this evening. You made me look like a fool. It looks like you need me to teach you again."

Charlie started to shake slightly at hearing those words. A long night lay ahead of her. She wished she had drunk more, she felt way too sober to get beat up on. The instant the doors of the room closed behind them he slapped her hard. Charlie stumbled and held her cheek, her eyes watering from the sting. Next, his fist connected with her stomach. The degree of violence told her how angry he actually was. He rarely got this violent. Davidson pushed her and her jaw hit the bedpost. He grabbed the back of the dress and pulled her onto the bed.

Ripping her dress, he loosened his pants. Charlie was used to that part. Hitting her always aroused him. He entered her without any preparation. The intensely burning sensation forced a sob through her clenched teeth and she felt tears stream down her face. She shut her eyes, imagining cutting his balls off. She could almost hear him scream in agony.

One day, she was going to kill that son of a bitch.

The next day Charlie sat on the floor of the room with her back against the wall. Her face looked horrific. Her jaw was swollen and her cheekbone was heavily bruised. Her stomach was now adorned with a big black bruise. The young woman was nursing a drink to ease the pain. Her mind and body gradually going numb, she closed her eyes and sighed heavily. The ruined dress still lay on the floor. Davidson had already been gone for a few hours. She apprehended his return. That morning she had pretended to be asleep and waited for him to leave.

She thought back to the night before. Sitting in the gardens and talking with Bass seemed like a lifetime ago. She wished moments like that could happen more often. It had made her day. Who was she kidding? It made her year. She laughed at herself. That sounded really pathetic. Why was she even clinging on to life? Nobody loved her and she didn't have anyone to love either. Jason had been mutated to the Plains Nations border. Davidson had promised her he would be dead inside a year.

In the same building, President Sebastian Monroe was presiding over a meeting. He had trouble staying focused on what Colonel Davidson was saying. Talking about some rebel nest found last week in Baltimore. His mind kept straying to Charlie. He didn't know where she lived but he needed to find her. He would ask Baker to locate Charlene Pittman later. He looked to his right to find Miles fighting off sleep. Judging by his slight green tint, Bass could tell his brother had had one hell of a night.

After the meeting, Bass and Miles went back to the Presidential office. Bass poured himself and Miles cups of coffee. Coffee came from South America and was crazy expensive in addition to being considered a delicacy since the blackout. To make it last longer they mixed it with chicory, a root used as a coffee substitute cultivated on the North American continent. Miles wrinkled his nose at the smell.

"Man, I'm not sure my stomach can handle that yet."

"So, I take it you had a good time."

"From what I remember, I did. But this morning I woke up with this chick in my bed. Could not remember her name if you tortured me."

"Seriously? Did she get mad?" Bass was smiling now.

"Yup. Got upset. I told the maids to take care of her."

Bass didn't say anything to that. He knew Miles wasn't the romantic type. Actually, the only woman he ever really loved was Rachel Matheson. He was sure his brother still loved her. But Rachel Matheson, who was still working on a few projects for the Republic, seemed to detest Miles now. She had been brought in almost three years ago. Things had not gone according to plan. First, Miles had found out his niece Charlotte had died of pneumonia a couple of years prior. Bass still recalled the tiny blonde girl who hugged them tightly when they came over for Thanksgiving dinner at the Matheson's house. Miles had taken the news pretty hard. Moreover, Ben had accidentally been killed while trying to escape on the road to Philly. Danny, against all odds, still survived to this day. The boy was fairly weak though. He often got asthma attacks.

"I met a girl last night" said Bass after a while.

"Oh so your night wasn't too bad either."

"Actually she slipped away before anything could happen. I'm going to ask Baker to track her down. Apparently she just recently moved to Philly."

"Wow. That never happens. She must have been a big tease."

"Shut up. Unlike you, I'm not a complete slut."

"Yeah, I'm not so sure about that" retorted the General.

"Anyway, have you ever heard of a Charlene Pittman?"

"Never. I need to take a bath. I hope what's-her-name has gone home."

Miles set down the untouched mug of coffee and left.

Monroe sat at his desk to get some work done. After a while, he sent out for Jeremy Baker.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III: May You Never Find My Little Box Of Lies

Davidson had been almost pleasant for the past few weeks. Charlie's injuries had long since healed. He still forced her to sleep with him but the violence had subsided. She knew work had been going really well for him lately. Sometimes- the domesticity of it chilled her to the bone- he would sit close to her and tell her about his day. Acting almost like she was his willing companion. The Colonel wasn't watching her as closely anymore and she had managed to steal a knife during dinner. That same sharp knife was now concealed in his quarters, within reach of Charlie's side of the bed. She didn't know if she would ever have the guts to use it.

Charlie was thinking about going out of the building to see the city while he was at work. She would need to ask him first though. Failing to do so would get her another bad beating. For now she could just go take a stroll through the gardens with one of Davidson's trusted pawns, one of the guards assigned to the Colonel's quarters. She had not gone out for a long time. People would stare at her battered face.

Bass Monroe was in one of his dark moods. The rebels were stirring up big trouble near the Plains border, Rachel was trying to manipulate Miles into dropping major technological projects, and Baker had failed to find Charlene Pittman. Rachel was screwing with his brother's head but that idiot was too happy she didn't seem to hate him anymore to notice anything. Monroe wanted to take control of the Georgia federation and needed the technological upper hand. However, that bitch had once again turned Miles into a love-struck, brainless, spineless imbecile. He really missed the days when Rachel gave Miles the cold shoulder.

He picked up a book and threw it across his office in frustration.

Rubbing his temples in an attempt to chase away the migraine that was creeping up on him, he turned to the window. The gardens were bathed in the soft late afternoon sunlight. He could almost smell the warm and sweet scent of summer flowers blooming. He was about to go over to the mahogany table in the corner of the room to pour himself a glass of Whiskey when a movement in the gardens alerted his senses. A guard was leisurely strolling through the gardens with a young woman that looked strangely like Charlene. Her back was to him so he couldn't recognize her for sure. The woman's hair looked so much like hers, even in the different lighting.

Charlie didn't hear him coming. She certainly never thought she would see him again within the walls of Independence Hall. He grabbed her arm from behind and made her jump in surprise. The guard turned back and froze when he recognized the president. Sebastian Monroe gave him a stern look and the guard didn't dare open his mouth.

"I thought it was you! We meet again." Monroe was smiling. This day wasn't so bad after all.

"Bass! What are you doing here?"

"Well, I live here. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Sebastian Monroe."

Charlie froze in horror. The man she had flirted with a few weeks ago was the president of the Republic and lived in Independence hall. He knew Miles Matheson.

Bass thought her shocked expression was due to the fact that she hadn't known he was the president that night.

"I'm sorry. You were new in town and didn't seem to know who I was. I took advantage of it. Very few people act normally around me. You were a welcome change." He studied her expression and tried to decrypt it. She looked really shocked, but beyond that, he saw something that looked like fear.

Charlie saw him staring at her, the look of confusion on his face. She shut it down. She had taught herself a mind trick to control her reactions. Putting whatever she was feeling in a box, closing the box, locking it in the attic of an empty house, and leaving the house without turning back. Taking back control over herself had saved her many times. She smiled at the president and acted mortified, which wasn't very hard to do at the moment.

"I'm so embarrassed! I didn't recognize you at all. I apologize, Mr. President." She felt the box stir: he knew her uncle. The man in front of her had ordered the capture of her family.

"Don't worry about it. Meeting someone who knows me just as Bass doesn't happen often. It's always refreshing."

Bass could really see her now. She was beautiful, just as he remembered, but the dress had made her look older than she probably was. Charlene was undoubtedly not older than her early twenties. He suddenly felt old.

"What are you doing here? The gardens are only accessible to residents."

Charlie's words died in her mouth. She didn't know what to say. How could she explain how she had come to live here with Davidson? Saying these things out loud only made her pain worse.

Charlene was acting weird. She glanced at the guard nervously. For a few seconds, Bass thought that maybe the guard and Charlie were together, that he had snuck her in for a date. He felt a wave of jealousy go through his body. The guard, Charles Harris, was a tall dark-haired man in his late twenties. He seemed more age appropriate for Charlene. Harris, utterly bored by the situation, glanced back at Davidson's slut and took her in pity.

"Actually, Mr. President, Charlene Pittman is Colonel Davidson's niece. Her parents passed away a few months ago and Colonel Davidson took her under his wing."

Apparently, this was the story they were telling to the general public. People thinking that she was that son of a bitch's niece really gave her the creeps.

"Well, Colonel Davidson didn't add her name to the resident registry as is required."

Monroe hoped for Jeremy's sake that the name Charlene Pittman really wasn't in the registry.

"He must have forgotten, Sir."

Bass couldn't believe she had been living in this very house from the beginning. She didn't look anything like William Davidson though. Being the Colonel's niece meant Bass couldn't just seduce her right under his nose. Even the President had to respect that she was the Colonel's protégée. He would have to ask for his permission, an old practice that had come back in style after the blackout. Although right now he only wished to talk to her without the guard being present. Innocently getting to know her in the gardens required no permission whatsoever.

"Harris, I'd like to have a word with Miss Pittman. I'll show her the gardens. You can go back to your post now."

Harris vacillated for a second, and, knowing there was nothing he could say, walked back to the residence.

Charlie felt so disappointed. Bass had turned out to be one of the people responsible for her present situation. If not for him and her uncle, her family would have never been captured. She wondered if her family was still alive today, and if so, if they were kept prisoner far from Philadelphia. She shoved those feelings into the box as well. He didn't know who she was. No one knew. She had not told a single soul. Charlie had a role to play here. Her survival depended on being a convincing Charlene Pittman, recently orphaned and niece of Colonel Davidson.

Once they were alone, Bass took the lead.

"First of all, I'm really sorry about your loss. I understand what it's like to lose people you love. I lost my family too."

"I'm sorry for your loss as well."

The man unknowingly responsible for taking her family away was trying to comfort her. Stranger things happened, right?

"I can't believe you're Davidson's niece. He never mentioned you. I was actually hoping to see you again."

"Isn't that what you tell all the girls?" The president was a notorious player.

"Hell no. Trust me, I don't often tell that to women. I really enjoyed meeting you."

She wasn't in any shape to flirt after what she'd just learned so she changed topics.

"May I ask how you lost your family?"

"They died in a car crash before the blackout."

"That must have been horrible. I can barely remember cars though."

"Well, it's been a few years."

She must have been around 10 years old when the lights went out. It seemed a bit strange that she didn't remember things such as cars. He didn't ask her age though. She looked old enough, right? She sure did to Bass. Charlene was wearing a white summer dress that showed off all her silhouette. She had a scarf tied around her forearm and a pendant was hanging from her neck, hovering over her cleavage. Davidson wouldn't dare say anything about it but somehow Bass didn't feel like treating her the way he treated random girls he met at parties. Her attitude was friendly but a bit cool at the same time. The fact that he was powerful didn't sway her.

They kept on walking in the gardens, talking about this and that. Charlie built her story from the ground up. She had to stay as truthful as possible about herself. A fake life sounds truer if you mix it with bits and pieces of truth. It also makes it easier to remember. Bass told her quite a bit about his own life. She learned a lot about her uncle Miles. Apparently he was a lady's man too. Funny thing that she was getting to know her long lost uncle through a stranger she had never met only a few weeks ago. The President seemed to know a lot about General Matheson.

She never made the connection with the blonde man she had called Uncle as a little girl. In her mind, that man had died during the blackout.

Dusk came before he knew it and he frantically thought of a way to hold her back.

"Come have dinner with me."

"I'm sorry but my uncle is probably expecting me."

"Then let me at least walk you back to him."

They ran into Davidson just outside their quarters.

"Davidson! You didn't tell me you had a niece."

Davidson looked at Charlie with confusion for a moment before turning back to the President.

"I really thought I had. After all, she's the only family I have left."

Charlie could tell he was giving his all to avoid making a mistake. The president couldn't find out the truth.

"Well, it must have slipped your mind. The rebels and the Georgia Federation have kept us busy this year."

"They certainly have, Sir."

The Colonel clearly wanted the conversation to end. Bass couldn't figure out why but he got a weird feeling. The whole situation felt odd somehow.

"I've just invited Charlene to dinner. Maybe you'd like to join us as well."

"That's very kind of you mister president. I haven't been feeling so well today so you will have to excuse me this time."

"Then maybe Charlene could let you rest and come dine with me."

Monroe decided maybe some presidential pressure would swing this conversation the way he wanted. Davidson clearly didn't want to let her go. He understood wanting to protect her but the Colonel was going too far with it.

"I'm sure she would be delighted to join you. Charlie, maybe you would like to change before dining with Mr. President?"

Charlie knew she had no choice in the matter and taking part in the conversation would only anger him. She assented with a nod.

"Then, come to the main hall when you are ready, Miss Pittman. I'm looking forward to dinner."

Once they were both in their quarters, Davidson cornered her against the wall.

"I don't know what you did or even how you got his attention but don't try to play smart with me. I can't say no to him but you better play your role in front of him. He learns you're not my niece and you will be sorry."

Charlotte said nothing. She got dressed and left. During dinner she found herself laughing at his jokes and flirting back. For a little while she could pretend to be someone who held little to no pain in her heart. A game of pretend is all this was, but, as long as the universe let her, she would continue to enjoy her time onstage. Being close to Sebastian Monroe might also be beneficial for her.

Walking her back after dinner, he took her in his arms before they got to her door, away from the guards' prying eyes. He had been thinking about kissing her all through the evening. Kissing her gently, Bass put his hands on her waist. Things heated up rather quickly. The young woman wasn't used to being kissed so passionately and sweetly at the same time. Davidson didn't bother with that kind of stuff. He clearly had no romantic feelings for her. She didn't know how Bass felt about her, honestly they hadn't known each other that long, but even then she could tell the kiss was very different. It heated up her insides.

After a while she gently pushed him away and started walking to her room. Right before she turned the corner, she looked back and saw him standing there, watching her intensely. She smiled at him and went on her way.

Davidson was waiting for her when she got in.

"Take off your clothes"

Sex wasn't so uncomfortable this time. Closing her eyes, she fantasized about the blonde man kissing her neck while whispering naughty and sweet things in her ear. Later she would chastise herself for forgetting the kind of man Bass really was.

President Monroe had not been so infatuated in years. And he hadn't had sex with her yet. He couldn't tell what set her apart from others, but there was definitely something.

Bass had been hurt in the past. Chasing women had been a big game until he met Shelley. Things had changed with her without him knowing why. Always this little something that made all the difference in his eyes. She had died while giving birth to his stillborn daughter and all the military victories in the world couldn't fill the hole she left behind. Miles had saved him from insanity but women had gone back to being pretty toys. He couldn't bring himself to care about them. There was always something missing and he never could put his finger on it.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV: The Ticking Time Bomb

A heat wave had reached Philly a few days ago. Most people tried to stay indoors as much as possible to escape the worst hours of the day. Charlie hated it. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Wet clothes stuck to her skin and left her feeling enclosed and gross. Trying to wear as little as possible also meant staying mostly inside Davidson's quarters. All she could handle to eat was fruit. The scorching heat also made her drowsy and even nauseous. This must be hell.

Things with the President had been going well. They hadn't slept together yet but she felt it was only a matter of time before it happened. She could handle the kissing and groping just fine. Doing these things felt normal because they were new to her. But sex wasn't the same at all. Charlie didn't know what was considered typical or acceptable. If Bass slept with her he would know she wasn't normal. The man most likely thought that she was inexperienced. She stopped him if he tried to go too far. He looked at her questioningly from time to time and she could do nothing but blush like a little girl. He might old enough to be her father but that wasn't a problem for her. At this point she really didn't give a damn how old he was. She herself felt like she had been through several lifetimes. How tiring this all was.

Bass finding out terrified her. She felt dirty and humiliated by what Davidson did to her. During sex she mostly gritted her teeth, flinched when he made sudden movements, and cried sometimes out of sheer frustration and humiliation. Charlie couldn't do it with anyone else. Her behaviour would be so obviously wrong for the situation. Her time with Bass meant she could act like her life wasn't a giant fucked up mess. She could be someone else. She didn't want it to end.

And beyond that was the fact that she felt really conflicted about Bass. She liked him. He was so nice to her. But she also knew what things he had done in the past. Afraid that he was acting nice so that she would let him in, she made a point to remember why he shouldn't be trusted. This man and her uncle had taken her family away from her.

Still, their time spent together felt amazing. Being treated kindly was something she was not used to. It made her forget a little. She also felt desired and appreciated.

A few days ago she had met Miles Matheson for the first time. They all had dinner together with Bass. He didn't recognize her in any way. Part of her wanted to throw the truth in his face, to make him see what he had made her become. She felt angry at him for not knowing her. All she did was to stare at him during the entire evening. She barely remembered him but somehow she couldn't make the connection between her vague recollections of her uncle and the man whom people nicknamed the Butcher of Baltimore. Surely he had been through a lot as well. Miles got irritated by her staring and make snarky remarks, likening her to a fish out of water. He probably thought that she was another young dumb blonde Bass liked to have in his bed.

Now she could only lie on her bed and stare at the ceiling while waiting for the evening. The high temperatures really didn't agree with her. She felt around the bed frame and found the concealed knife. Feeling the blade under her fingers reassured her. That weapon could be her exit route. Nevertheless, maybe Bass was another way for her to get out of her situation. He had never told her how he felt but she hoped that maybe things would go further. If she could get over the sex part then she could find out if he really liked her or if the chasing game was all that kept him going. From time to time she dreamed that he would ask her to marry him and that Davidson would finally leave her alone. She had to laugh at herself for thinking the President, a man she couldn't truly figure out, could be the knight in shining armour that would save her.

Davidson was due to get back tomorrow. He had been away for a few days. She was enjoying the respite.

Come evening, Bass came knocking on her door.

"Hey are you ready for dinner?"

"Sure but let me get changed first."

"Do I get to watch?"

Charlie laughed and went in the adjoining bathroom to change away from his gaze.

Bass was starting to get impatient and worried at the same time. It looked like she wanted him but she kept on pulling away when things became too heated. Charlene looked young and came from a good family. He suspected she had never been with a man before. Virgins weren't his thing since they made him seem like a cradle robber. However, Charlene was worth it. She looked young but spending time with her showed him how mature she actually was.

They had dinner on a balcony overlooking the gardens. The food was delicious, as usual. Charlie really enjoyed her meals with Bass. She was always surprised to dine with him alone; at the beginning she expected her uncle would join them often. After all, they were best friends and he talked about him constantly. Nonetheless, Bass often arranged for them to be on their own.

Bass was telling her a funny story about his younger sisters Cynthia and Angela when she felt a wave of nausea hit her. She just had the time to get up and go throw up over the balcony's edge and onto the neatly arranged flower beds below. What a perfect time to get sick.

Getting over the surprise, Bass quickly got up and walked over to her. She was breathing fast and shaking on her feet slightly.

"Are you okay?"

He laced an arm around her waist to give her support.

"I don't know. I've been feeling sick. I thought it was the heat."

"There must be something else. Vomiting out of the blue like that is not normal. Let's get you back to your room. I'll have my doctor take a look at you right away."

She took a few steps but had to stop because her vision was blurry. Bass swept her off her feet and carried her all the way to her room. Since everyone knew Charlene was living with Davidson, the Colonel had opened up an adjoining room for her personal use. Only one bed for Charlene and him would raise far too many questions. People would become suspicious.

When the doctor came in, Bass respectfully stepped outside to wait.

After many questions and examinations, doctor emitted a horrible hypothesis.

"Miss Pittman, I think you might be pregnant."

She was too stunned to even speak.

"You have a few symptoms and your period has been missing for some time now. I know you think it was the darn heat wave but it's much more likely for older people to feel weakened by the high temperatures than someone young and healthy such as yourself. "

"That can't be."

"Don't worry too much, Ms. Pittman. I know you are not married but I'm sure Mr. President will be very happy with the news. It's no secret he needs an heir."

"You cannot tell him!"

"Oh but I'm sure it would be no big deal to…"

"I forbid you to tell him. You're a doctor and I'm your patient. Everything I tell you must be kept to yourself. I will find the right time to announce it myself."

Like hell she would. She could never tell him that she was pregnant. She was carrying Davidson's child. The thought choked her up but she swallowed it. But the doctor had to keep his mouth shut.

"If it's what you wish."

"It is."

He came out of her room and told Bass the heat was exhausting her and that she had probably contracted a stomach bug. The President looked at him with a slight frown. He started to say something and then changed his mind and gave the doctor a curt nod.

Charlie stayed on her bed, trying to understand what was happening to her. She put her hands on her lower stomach. She felt too young for this great burden. Technically she was still in her teenage years. Charlie knew almost nothing about babies, or pregnancies for that matter.

Bass came into her room to check on her. He lay down on the bed next to her. He spooned her from behind and kissed her neck sweetly. He brought her some water and fanned her until Charlie made him stop with a half-smile half-frown.

"You really don't need to do this. I don't even know why I got sick. I'm sure it's nothing."

"The doctor is not sure but he suspects heat exhaustion and maybe a stomach bug. You'll be fine in no time. And that means I get to take care of you."

"Mr. President, don't you have more important things to do than to take care of a sick girl?"

"Well, I probably do. But it's my girl who is sick so that changes everything."

She had wanted to hear him say that she was his girl. Now the words tasted bitter on her tongue. Her body had so obviously been marked by someone else. She was carrying her abuser's child. Since she and Bass had never had sex she couldn't tell him. There was no way she could make him believe that the baby was his. The doctor mentioned that, according to her last period, she was most likely more than halfway done with the first trimester. No wonder she felt a bit heavier: she thought it was all the good food she was eating.

Looking in the mirror, she could not see much of a change. Yes, she had put on a few pounds, but nothing that would be very noticeable. The nausea, though, was quite bad. She couldn't believe that had been the reason for her queasiness. The doctor had gotten her some peppermint essence to help with the nausea. Hopefully, she would quickly get over the morning sickness.

She thought about her options. She could cross out the "killing herself" route. She couldn't do that to an innocent being. Being with Bass would never work as an option now. Moreover, she needed to get away from William Davidson. Charlie needed to find a way to leave and to keep her secret.

Closing her eyes, she asked the universe to give her the strength to get out of this mess. She wasn't alone anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter V: Run, baby, Run

Davidson had yet to return to Philadelphia. His mission fighting rebels had delayed him further when the rebels had managed to raid an artillery compound and get their hands on valuable and dangerous weaponry.

Charlie was feeling better physically. Her mind, however, was working at a hundred miles per hour. She needed to get out with the needed essentials inconspicuously and at a time where her disappearance would go unnoticed for several hours. The best time seemed to be at night, when most people would be asleep. It couldn't be too early for there would be a high probability of running into the night owls of Independence Hall. Leaving too late, however, would mean less time for her to get away before the alarm was raised. It would be best to make her escape while Davidson was still gone but she needed some extra time to gather supplies without being detected. Stealing without anyone noticing was slow, careful work.

The best exit point was probably through the kitchens. There was no one at night and the service entrance wasn't guarded as closely as the official ones.

Tonight was a special occasion though, so it was out of the question. Tonight the entire Republic would celebrate Sebastian Monroe's birthday. The party would be just as grand as the reception for Miles' birthday was.

She had gotten a new dress made for the occasion. The blue one she had worn on the night she met Bass had been damaged beyond repair by Davidson. The dress was floor length, sleeveless, and red. The straps crossed over her bare back, tied around her waist, just below her chest, and secured into a bow on the small of her back. The seamstress kept on complimenting her on the outfit. Despite the few pounds she had put on, the dress looked stunning on her frame.

The birthday celebration made her nervous. Charlie knew that tonight she wouldn't be able to say no to Bass. Saying no to the President on his birthday wasn't done. That was the end of it.

They had gotten close to doing it a couple of times. She had stopped them, just before things got too awkward. But, she couldn't say no to him on his birthday. Moreover, she wanted to be with him. She had been afraid. She still was. But things had changed. Charlie would be leaving soon anyway. She couldn't say goodbye to him openly. Giving herself to him physically seemed like a good way to end things and say goodbye at the same time. It was a memory she could take with her and cherish while she tried to make it on her own. The moment would be intimate and she would never find out whether he sincerely liked her or if chasing her had been just a big game for him. Things would be better left this way.

Still, it made her nervous. And, to make it worse, she couldn't even drink to soothe herself.

During the evening, Bass spent his time being greeted and wished a happy birthday while drinking with his friends. He also paid attention to Charlie but she didn't find her place among his friends. Miles would shoot her dirty looks when she tried to get close. It made her sad. To him Charlie was simply a stupid pampered girl. Her uncle was jealous of the place Bass had given her in his life. However, better for him never to know, better to be able to leave quietly and stay out of sight. She would eventually need to cross the border. She would not be safe as long as she stayed in the Republic. Davidson's pride would never allow him to let her go.

She really missed getting drunk. Giving up on drinking was harder than she had expected. The young woman wanted to crawl back into the bottle. Alcohol had become her crutch ever since Davidson had raped her for the first time.

A couple of days ago she had run into Miles in one of the halls. She could tell he had been drinking. Perhap it was an inheritable bad habit. He had backed her into the wall and, with a mean smile, had said:

"I really don't know what he sees in you. I promise you, he will get tired of you. And when he does, he will throw you away just like he did all the others. You are nothing special, just his flavour of the season. When he does, come see me. I'll give you a proper goodbye before sending you back to your dear Uncle."

His words made her feel sick to her stomach. Her uncle hated her and thought of her as a cheap whore. She had gone back to her room in a hurry, just in time for the tears that had welled up in her eyes to spill over. Her crying may have been partly caused by the pregnancy hormones, but hearing her father's brother say such cruel things made her heart ache.

During the evening, Bass took some time to take a walk outside with Charlie. She put on a brave smile. He sat with her in front of the fountain, just as they had done at the beginning of the summer.

They were kissing when Bass pulled back and looked at her with pleading eyes.

"I know this is going to sound weird but I want you to know something. I really like you, and I'm not going to cast you away. I think…I know that you are scared. I can tell, sometimes. I don't really know what to do to make you feel better."

Waiting for a reaction on her part that didn't come, Bass let out a small laugh.

"I realize that my reputation doesn't really work in my favour here. You know like everyone else, I'm sure, that I'm not really one to get attached. For the longest time, it's been just me and Miles. We've been brothers for all our lives."

He nervously ran his hand through his blonde curls.

"Anyway, I don't think I'm explaining myself very well. I don't want you to think you are like the other women I've dated. I care about you. That's what I wanted to say."

"Thank you for telling me this. I care about you too. And it's also important for me that you know it."

She leaned in and Bass took her face in his hands and kissed her again.

Later that evening, a slightly inebriated Bass left the party with a stone-cold sober Charlie (who really wished she could drink). They stopped in the hall to kiss against the wall.

This time she allowed him to take her to his quarters.

Charlie was trying to calm down. _This is not Davidson, she told herself. He won't hit you. You need to calm down, Charlie. He can't see how nervous you are._

"Charlie, I'm sorry I have to ask. Have you ever…"

"Don't worry, I have."

She couldn't tell if Bass felt relieved or disappointed. She felt compelled to add:

"It wasn't a very good experience."

She looked embarrassed to tell him. He kissed her again before replying:

"He must have been an idiot. You won't regret it, I promise"

They made love with the moonlight shining through the glass windows.

On the morning after, Bass woke up before Charlie did. She looked so peaceful sleeping like that in his bed. His room often seemed empty but she managed to fill it even while deep in sleep. Usually he didn't let women spend the night but he wouldn't dream of doing that with Charlie. She made him feel so happy and he hadn't felt this way for a long time.

At the same time, Davidson set foot in the city.

Monroe had a morning meeting with Davidson and a few other officers. Colonel Davidson was scheduled to arrive soon. A messenger had come to his office yesterday to tell him they weren't far away from the Philly gates. He was impatient to hear his report but the thought of leaving Charlie really made him want to cancel the meeting. Fighting his urge to wake up Charlie, he got up and dressed quietly. He also told his guards to leave the door unattended for a few hours. He didn't want Charlie to feel embarrassed when she would decide to leave his room.

Davidson was glad to be back in Philadelphia. He didn't really enjoy sleeping in tents and running after dirty rebels. The President was unhappy about the compound raid but he still looked serene, his expression relaxed. He found that suspicious. What had Monroe been up to? More specifically, what had Charlene been up to? He had had a talk with her before leaving. He had made it very clear that even though she was dating Bass she remained his property. The only reason he allowed this masquerade was because the President was his superior in rank. He hated that his toy had to be shared with that pampered politician. Davidson had told Charlie to behave while he was gone.

Monroe dismissed Davidson to receive other important visits. The Colonel went to his room and found it empty. He questioned his staff. Charlie had not been seen since yesterday and he had a pretty good idea of where she had spent the night.

Charlie was still asleep when Davidson barged in unannounced. Not bothering with manners, he took her by the arm and violently pulled her out of bed. She was still naked and fell heavily on the wooden floor.

"So this is what you've been up to while I was gone. You couldn't just behave yourself. Oh no, you had to let the President fuck you."


	6. Chapter 6

Rising up

"Mr. President, I've just come from seeing Danny Matheson. It seems he's taken ill again. His condition has always been weak but this time I'm worried about the outcome of this bout of pneumonia."

"Rachel Matheson will never finish the project if her son is not taken care of." Bass was more murmuring to himself than talking to the doctor.

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's nothing. Anyway, what do you suggest?"

"I would like to get him moved into the infirmary. Taking care of my patient would be much easier there."

"That's fine. I'll just have a couple of guards affected to Mr. Matheson's personal protection outside the infirmary."

"May I say, Mr. President, that I was not expecting to get your approval so easily. You are usually very careful and suspicious when it comes to our guests."

"Today's a good day. Lucky for you, you caught me in a good mood."

The doctor chuckled in his beard.

"And I think I can guess what put you in such a good mood."

At that point, Bass looked up from the papers sprawled on his desk.

"I really don't see how you would know."

A disoriented and terrified Charlie was dragged back to Davidson's chambers. He had rolled her into a bedsheet and carried her while threatening her if she didn't stay perfectly quiet in the halls.

Once in his room he dismissed all the guards outside and dropped her unceremoniously on the carpeted floor. She was too afraid to even open her mouth to try to defend herself. She knew sleeping with someone other than him was the biggest mistake she could ever make.

He kicked her in the stomach. Her breath was knocked out from the pain and she rolled over on the floor, gasping for air.

"Please stop"

"Please what? I'm sorry but you need to learn. I'm very disappointed in you."

He kicked her again, the time in her lower back. That second kick made Charlie cry out in pain, tears streaming down her face. Davidson didn't let her recover and made her stand up, pulling her up by the shoulders.

"I let you have your fun. Now, this is over. I'm moving you out of the residence. I had a proposition to go oversee military operations near the Georgia border. You will never see him again."

Charlie gasped in pain and horror, trying to grasp at the bedpost to keep from toppling over. She was afraid he had hurt her baby when kicking her.

If she survived this beating he would take her out of the city and into the wilderness. Escaping from there would be close to impossible, especially if she managed to remain pregnant. She couldn't let him take everything from her again. All her life she had let other people take away the things and people she cared about. She had let General Matheson and President Monroe take her family away. Then, she had let a gang and the Militia take away her freedom. At 16, she had allowed that loathsome son of a bitch to take away her only friend and her virginity. Now, he was going to take even more from her. That man didn't understand anything about love or friendship. And he would never be able to love his own child.

Just as she came to the awaited to conclusion to all this internal ranting, Davidson slapped Charlie hard across the cheek. Holding the side of her face, she sank to her knees. Not caring if he saw, she quickly ran her arm along the underside of the bedframe to find the concealed knife.

Davidson didn't even have the time to react. She jammed the knife at an upward angle in his gut.

"I'm pregnant, you bastard."

She took the knife out and stabbed him again in another place. Blood ran out his mouth onto his chin and down his neck. He looked at her with an intense expression of surprise and incomprehension.

When he collapsed completely, Charlie was left barely standing. The adrenaline rush she got from finally murdering her abuser kept her upright. Breathing hard and fast, she crossed the room to get dressed and retrieve her supplies. The emotion made her dizzy and clumsy. She got dressed in the first clothes she found. Making sure her Militia brand was still covered by all the bracelets and wristbands she always wore, she checked the room for other items she might need. She knew she had to get out of there but she felt completely unable to walk out right now and put on a normal face for the world to see. For starters, her body was screaming in pain and she was afraid he had managed to hurt the baby. She was sweating profusely and her breathing was erratic. Moreover, she had not planned to leave during broad daylight. The kitchens would be busy at this time. She would need to take almost nothing with her and leave through the main gates, as if she was going for a walk in the city.

She never made it to the door. Her body took over and she fainted, falling on the floor in the middle of the room. There was not a sound around.

"You must have heard the good news. I told her it would make you happy. She seemed scared, poor thing. She's a bit young, of course, but that should not pose a problem."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Monroe stood up from his desk chair and looked furiously at the doctor. What game was he playing? He hated feeling like things had been kept from him and he had no idea was the doctor was referring to. The only woman he could be talking about was Charlie.

The doctor froze. The President didn't know. He had just made a big mistake. When seeing how good of mood he was in, he had been sure Ms. Pittman had finally told him she was pregnant.

"I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I got confused."

"No, I don't think you are confused at all. What were you going to tell me? What do you think made me happy?"

The doctor got ready for the reaction he was about to get. He didn't know what to expect, but he was expecting the worst.

"That Ms. Pittman is pregnant."

Bass didn't even dismiss the doctor. He just ran out his office.

She couldn't be pregnant from him. That was simply impossible. She had been lying to him from the beginning. The reason she had been so shy about them being physical is because there was someone else. He stopped when a thought crossed his mind: had he and her uncle unknowingly forced her to date him? Could have she been with someone else even before they got together. He didn't always think about a woman's situation when pursuing her. But, surely her uncle would have known she was seeing someone. Davidson would have said something. Unless Davidson didn't know she was already with someone. She hadn't told him because it had to be a secret. Could her lover be the man he had seen her with when he ran after her in the gardens? What was his name? Harris! Charlie had probably been strolling through the gardens with her boyfriend when Bass had just barged in and ordered him to go back to his post. He could see it now. He had just been butting in. Harris had been so unwilling to leave. He had found it strange, but no wonder!

Bass felt bad for the way he had just assumed Charlie was single but she had never denied it. She had never said anything to the contrary! She was two-timing him when she could have just said something. A horrible thought came to him: was she just with him because of his position? Suddenly, he felt like the woman he had come to have great affection for was someone he didn't know at all.

He walked quickly back to his quarters. The guards hadn't returned yet. He was going to confront her about this. Bass was really angry at himself for not noticing anything but he was even more furious at her for lying and playing him from the beginning.

But he found the bed empty. It seemed she had left his quarters already. He didn't know whether Davidson would already be back in his room but he didn't care. He needed to know right now, even if he had to do it in front of one of his officers.

Coming to the door, he found that the guards were missing there too. He knocked on the door several times but got no answer. Finally, he decided to go inside. He didn't know why he felt he should go in. Usually he would have gone somewhere else to look for her but the absence of guards in the perimeter made him suspicious.

He walked in and the first thing he saw was Davidson lying in a pool of his own blood by the side of his bed. Davidson had been stabbed to death with the bloody kitchen knife lying next to the red

puddle. Looking for imminent threat he gave the room a quick onceover and found Charlie on the floor, her face hidden by her gold blond hair.

He rushed over to her, whispering "no" over and over with an anguished tone. He felt for a pulse and looked her over. She was still alive. Looking for an injury he noticed her hands had traces of blood on them and that enormous black bruises were forming on her stomach and lower back.

What the hell had happened here?

Making sure Charlie was in no imminent danger, he ran out to get the doctor and guards. He also asked a maid to go get Miles. The residence was going on lockdown. No one would get out of here alive unless he allowed it. He was running back to Charlie when he remembered why he had gone to see her in the first place. She was pregnant and someone had hit her right in the lower stomach.

The doctor arrived quickly and officially declared Davidson dead. Charlie was carried carefully to the infirmary. Bass placed trusted guards to make sure she was protected. Before leaving her in the hands of the doctor, he kissed her forehead. She looked so distressed and weak. He was afraid. He had come to confront her about the things he had heard but now he was just afraid of losing her. He had become very attached to her. The older man didn't know how he would get over the heartbreak if she left or if she told him she had never wanted to be with him from the start.

Now, He and Miles had to start the rounds questioning. Davidson's murderer would not get away with this. He felt the adrenaline pumping in his veins: this was going to be a long day, especially for the cowardly rats hiding somewhere in the residence, probably in plain sight.

They first brought in all the personnel assigned to the care of Davidson and his niece.


	7. Chapter 7

The Monster Underneath

Time was running out. Questioning Davidson's house personnel was taking a long time. They told the usual insipid stories. He liked to have tea with breakfast, he bathed regularly, she never spoke much, and he liked to drink whiskey. President Monroe really didn't care about all the mundane details. Underneath it all, something seemed off. They spoke at length about Davidson and Charlie but Bass never heard of their relationship. He was starting to get to know each of them as individuals but not as a family. Maybe they didn't have much in common after all. Family didn't always make people feel close to one another.

Letting another senior officer continue the interrogation, he left the room to get some air. They had quickly sealed all the house exits, putting trusted guards at all points of entry. They recognized him immediately and let him stroll on the terrace. The president rubbed his temples; this was going too slowly. Davidson's murderer was still on the run and Charlie lay in an infirmary bed, guarded at all times, in case the killer wanted to come back and finish the job.

He turned around to gaze at the rear façade of Independence Hall. The infirmary was on the second floor, making the corner of the building. She was in there. Her condition was stable but he was afraid that she remained in danger. The animal who had beat her deserved to die a painful death. Moreover, he wanted answers. She was carrying another man's child. Did she have feeling for him at all? Or was it all just acting because she didn't dare to refuse him?

Bass went back inside and asked a maid to bring some tea and sandwiches to his office. He didn't usually eat in his private office, especially right on his mahogany desk. Separating work and life had always been one of his priorities. Eating while working at his desk seemed sloppy and less than classy for an important North American leader such as himself. But maybe the little things didn't amount to much in the end. Maybe it didn't really matter if he didn't follow his self-imposed rules. Things would be no different in the end. Bass had to laugh at himself. Here he was, walking up the stairs, and all he could think about was trivial and meaningless matters. Who the hell cared if he changed his habits for once? Somehow, though, he was left with a feeling of powerlessness. He couldn't even stop murders from being committed in his own home. How could he pretend to keep an entire nation safe?

Sitting near the fireplace, he ate and thought while digging into his meal. He hadn't taken a break in hours. Still, he didn't eat at his desk.

Why would anyone want to kill Davidson? Sure, he wasn't the nicest guy he'd ever met. But he couldn't figure out why anyone would personally want to kill him. Then, it must be because of his military position. That theory didn't hold up either though. The killer took a lot of risks by accomplishing his mission right in the political heart of the Republic. Why go to all that trouble to

accomplishing his mission right in the political heart of the Republic. Why go to all that trouble to kill a colonel when Bass and Miles were mere yards away?

It was time to get back to work. Now that he'd had a little time to step back, he could see the situation more clearly. More specifically, he could see that something was off in the way the maids and the guards answered the questions. They spoke slowly, carefully. They were afraid of letting something slip. What could it be? What were they not telling him about Davidson? Perhaps they were covering for someone. Maybe the murderer was right in front of him. But he didn't understand what a maid or guard would gain from killing Davidson. Bass's mind went everywhere. Looking for threats all around and for motive in each person he considered.

He singled out a scared looking maid who looked barely old enough to work in Independence Hall. They often lied and told recruiters they were eighteen in order to support their families. Usually there was no way to know for certain. He isolated her and gave her to one of his best interrogators: Strausser. The man stopped at nothing to get results. Torture was his strong suit. However, in the present situation, Bass ordered him to show restraint and to use his mind, rather than his torture techniques, to get the desired information.

An hour later Bass, opened the window to let in some fresh air. The things William Strausser told him made him sick. Davidson was a rapist and an incestuous bastard. Worse, Charlie was carrying his child. He heard it all. Davidson had suddenly decided to replace most of his staff a few weeks after Charlie had arrived. He told the new maid she was his orphaned niece. The abuse had already been going on for a while. She didn't know where the previous maids had been sent.

Bass felt overwhelmed. He hadn't seen it. Looking at her every day, getting to know her, growing to love her, and he had seen nothing. She was a closed book, now more than ever. He hadn't known how strong she was. She had kept on smiling when her life was a tragedy. She had lived with a monster that had raped her daily and beat on her whenever he felt like it. Davidson was a sick and evil man. At least he was dead, good riddance. The search for the murderer, while still a priority, seemed a bit less important to Bass now. He wanted to go see Charlie. But he felt afraid meet her eyes. He felt responsible for letting all these horrible things happen to her right under his roof. But why had she kept it a secret? He knew rape victims often kept their mouth shut out of shame and embarrassment. She had been afraid and ashamed. Thinking about how alone she must have felt, President Monroe felt tears well up in his blue eyes. Shedding tears was very much unlike him. He slammed his first on his desk in frustration. Miles would not understand if he were there. Instead of participating in the interrogation, Miles had insisted on securing the city. Bass knew he didn't care for Charlie at all. He couldn't fathom why.

Charlie regained consciousness in the infirmary. At first she wondered where she was and how she had gotten there. She had never seen the inside of the infirmary before. As the events of the days came back to her, panic knotted her stomach and she looked for the exit. She had killed Davidson and they would eventually find out, if they had not done so already. She sat up and winced in pain. The bruises Davidson had given her were substantial. She immediately looked for blood between her legs. She felt relief; it seemed her baby was still strongly attached inside her. She carefully touched her lower stomach and silently thanked the universe. The being whose existence she had not wanted had become her reason to go on and live. She would protect him or her to the end. Charlie tried to get out but guards stopped her and nurses put her back to bed with a mild sedative.

On the other side of the room she heard someone cough and turn over.


	8. Chapter 8

My Protective Heart

Charlie could have been moved out of the infirmary and back into her quarters. Her injuries were not serious enough to keep her in the infirmary. But the panic attacks she got when the personnel mentioned moving her were so worrying that they thought better of it. She could not go back to the scene of her torments. They kept her there and checked on the baby's health every day.

The young woman refused to see anyone and slept a lot. She didn't want to face Bass. Several times, the president had tried to visit her but she had faked sleep when he arrived. Often crying, she spent her days in a thick fog of misery. She needed to get out of her own head. Charlotte often dreamed of getting up from her bed, going past the only other occupant of the infirmary, opening the windows, and flying out into the night. Charlie had never actually seen who the other patient was. He was a man, she could tell by the sounds he made, and he suffered from strong fits of coughing and wheezing resembling asthma.

A week after Davidson's murder, she stopped pretending to sleep to get away from Bass. She needed to face him and figure out if he knew what she had done.

He was so surprised when he found her awake for once that he was a bit at a loss for words. How do you talk to someone who has been through this much pain?

He sat by her bedside and stared at the white bedsheets.

"I'm sorry I didn't figure it out sooner. I can't believe I didn't see anything."

"I chose not to say anything. How was I supposed to keep my chin up otherwise?"

He ran his hand through his hair and felt tears start to well up again.

"I could have protected you. Your uncle was a cold bastard. You could have told me."

Her uncle was a cold bastard. Yeah, weirdly enough that also sounded like a good description of her real uncle: Miles. Thankfully, Bass didn't know who she was: that was good news.

"You didn't know him like I did. There was no hiding, no running away from him. As long as he lived, he would have pursued me and found a way to hurt me; even under your protection."

"I don't believe that" he said almost angrily "he was just a man. He could have been stopped."

Looking up, he saw that her eyes were rimmed with red and seemed puffy. Her arms were crossed in front of her lower stomach, unconsciously shielding the being he now knew was growing within her.

"You're pregnant. It's his." The statement, although said very quietly, seemed to reverberate in

both of them. The problem had no solution.

She didn't say anything but tightened her arms only very slightly.

He opened his mouth to add something but she cut him off:

"I'm tired now" she sunk into her bed and turned away from him.

She didn't want to talk about this with him. It was too painful, and much too early.

"Oh, Charlene, I didn't mean to…"

He once again took his face in his hands and breathed deeply. He needed to control himself. No more anguished looks. Crying wouldn't do any good. Bass was not a crier, which made the whole thing even weirder. But he cried when the people who mattered to him got hurt. He could not help it. Bass Monroe had lost too many people.

"Charlene, I will let you rest. When I come back tomorrow, maybe I could take you outside in the sun?"

Going back to his office, he tried to regain his normally cool composure. Will Strausser was waiting outside to see him.

"I'm here to present my report."

Officers who were working on sensitive topics were required to make frequent reports to the President or General Matheson.

Walking to his desk, he waved Strausser to come after him.

"Let's hear it."

"I've sent out people to track down Davidson's previous staff. We have a good lead on a maid named Clara. You will be notified as soon as we've gotten her pinned down."

"Make sure she is brought back to Philly comfortably. That is, unless she resists our demands."

"Of course, Mr. President."

"Is there anything new regarding Rachel Matheson?"

"She is working steadily towards the completion of the amplifier. But she has requested to see her son."

"Why can't she see Dany? Aren't they living in the same quarters?"

"Actually, sir, he was moved to the infirmary recently. I thought you approved the transfer personally."

That conversation seemed to have happened a century ago. The murder taking place in Independence hall had completely put it out of his mind.

"I did, of course. In a couple of days, I will ask someone of trust to look at the work she has completed. If she has done well, I will allow her to visit her son in the infirmary. I hope she has complied with my requests."

"I will relay the message, sir."

"If that is all, you are dismissed."

A couple of hours later, Miles walked into the office and poured himself a drink.

"I'm dog tired. Want one?"

Bass nodded and went back to reading reports from his spies in Georgia.

"By the way, Strausser told me to tell you a maid is being brought to Philly ASAP. Wanna explain why?"

"She worked for Davidson when he was first transferred to Independence Hall. I want to question her."

"Doesn't it make you sick to know you were banging a girl who was getting fucked by her uncle?"

The sudden cruel question startled Bass. He took his eyes off of the report and found Miles leaning nonchalantly against a table, staring at him with drinks in his hand.

"Why would you want to know? You've always acted like she doesn't exist."

"I act like she doesn't exist because she doesn't. She is not relevant. Why can't you see an abandoned kitten looking for power and money when you meet one? Blondie should not even be on your radar."

"Don't talk about her like that. You don't know her."

"I know her type. Acting all cute and putting on a show. Come one, Bass, this girl just wanted out of her situation. You were the perfect candidate, powerful and always partial to a pretty face."

"I'm serious, Miles, shut up. You know nothing about her AND you've always been a bad judge of character. Why else would you still want Rachel after all the twisted things she has done?"

"Rachel is smart, strong, and resourceful. Your girl is so young she probably just stopped wearing diapers, and she can't take care of herself from what I've heard. She pulled you into this mess."

"She is old enough."

Really, thought Bass, that was the only thing I could come back with?

"She was the victim of a psychopath, you fucking moron! Do you even hear yourself when you speak? Rachel is cold and calculating and Charlie-yes, Miles, she has a name- is a good person."

"Don't call her Charlie, it's an insult to my niece."

Suddenly Bass understood it: the reason why Miles hated her so much. She had the same nickname as Charlotte Matheson, his niece. Now Bass could see the underlying pain in his best friend. Charlene probably reminded him of her, even though he hadn't seen her since before the Blackout. Charlene had blonde hair but was probably a bit older than the age Charlotte would have been. Why the hell did he keep forgetting to ask Charlene's age? They both had blue eyes. He didn't remember Charlotte clearly enough to make a detailed comparison. Nonetheless, he got it now. Miles could not accept her because of the few characteristics Charlene and Charlotte seemed to share.

"It's still her name, Miles. I know you wish you could have done something for Charlotte and Ben. But it's out of your power and Charlene doesn't deserve to be treated this way."

"Ah, shut up. That's got nothing to do with it."

"Are you really convinced of it? I think you are angry because she reminds you of little Charlotte a little."

"Don't go all shrink on me."

Miles turned to walk out. Bass called after him:

"She's here to stay you know. She needs me and I want her to rely on me."

The next day, Bass came back to the infirmary and looked to the occupied alcove near the windows. That was no way to tell who it was because the beds were surrounded by curtains to allow for some privacy but he knew Dany was staying there.

He parted the curtains around Charlene's bed.

"Hey there, how are you feeling today?"

She was sitting up, reading a book.

"I'm fine, Bass."

"How do you feel about going outside today?"

"I'm ready to get out of this dump you call an infirmary."

She was getting back her sass. That was a good sign, Bass thought.

While strolling, Bass tried to catch her up with the investigation. When he mentioned Clara, she became white as a sheet.

"Why would you need to talk to her? Clara wouldn't know who killed Davidson."

"Of course not, but she was here right when Davidson moved in. Maybe she saw something that might lead us to the killer."

Charlie couldn't believe they still thought she was innocent. From what she could tell, Bass did not even suspect her a little. But Clara's testimony would change everything. The maid knew that Charlie was part of the Militia, and although she had no idea who Charlene really was, Clara was aware Charlie shared no blood with Davidson.

"When is she supposed to get here?" she asked casually.

"I've been told it will take a few days."

Then she had very little time to figure out a way to get out of here. Once they started to dig deeper, they would not stop. They probably already held half of her family captive somewhere. She would miss Bass so much, but she could not raise a baby behind bars. It was a comfort to know, unlike everyone else, that her baby was not the product of incest. Instead, she feared he or she would look or behave like Davidson. She chased the dark thought away: the baby had to take more from her than from him. He or she would be good and healthy.

"How are you feeling, Charlene?"

"I'm fine now."

"You don't feel sick or nauseous sometimes?"

He kept his gaze in front of him, like he always did when he tried to hide his feelings.

Oh hell, Charlie thought, is he really asking me if I have morning sickness?

"Do we have to talk about this?"

"It's going to become increasingly difficult to ignore, I think."

"I told you, I'm fine" she replied coolly after a moment of silence.

He invited her to sit on the bench from their first meeting and took her hands in his.

"I only want you to be okay. I know you must be afraid but we are going to catch the murderer and you know Davidson will never hurt you again. I will take care of you."

Bass leaned in to kiss her but she leaned away. His eyes widened in surprise and hurt.

"I don't think I can be with you now."

"That's bullshit!"

"Bass, I'm carrying another man's child."

"But you didn't cheat on me. You were a victim. None of this is your fault."

"Maybe, but I'm still going to be a mother."

"You can still be with me."

"You would accept a child that is not yours?" That seemed incredible to Charlie.

"A child born into this world is innocent. I can take care of both of you."

She felt so touched by his words. Few men would stand by a woman pregnant by someone else. This time, she was the one to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around her. She never wanted this moment to end.


	9. Chapter 9

Tick Tock Goes The Clock

How would feel, watching a bomb that is about to explode in your face?

Security was tight, much too tight. Doctors, nurses, guards, patients; she was never really alone. Clara was expected to arrive in Philly very soon. Part of her secret was about to be revealed and she was helpless to stop it. Why wouldn't they let her out? She was better, they said. The doctors still worried about her mental state. The nightmares were terrifying. She dreamed of being enclosed, unable to avoid the monster slowly crawling towards her. They made her tired but unwilling to fall asleep at night. Daytime sleeping felt much more reassuring, which didn't help her focus on finding a way to get the fuck out of this place. The other thing that didn't help was Bass. She would miss him so much. Charlie already longed for his presence when he was away working. But whatever he felt for her would soon melt away when he finally found out her whole persona wasn't real.

Rachel Matheson missed her son. He was a teenager now but she always thought of him as the fragile baby who needed her love and protection more than anyone else in the world. The mother was going to go see him in the infirmary. She felt sure he must be dying of boredom. She wanted to ask for a transfer. In fact, she would find a way to go see Bass after the visit. Danny had always been fragile but he didn't need to live in a sterile, boring place. What he needed was his mother's love and care. She always knew how to take care of her boy.

Thankfully, the guards stayed outside. Rachel didn't want them overhearing their private conversations. His bed was surrounded by curtains. She opened them but it wasn't Danny. She looked upon a face she had not seen in a long time. A face belonging to a person she had feared was long dead. Charlie was sleeping with a frown on her face. Her daughter looked thin and a bit pale.

What had those monsters done to her? Rachel Matheson's fury rose like magna in a volcano. What right did Monroe have to manipulate her by using her family? Miles claimed to love her but still allowed Monroe to keep her in chains. They threatened her son every time she refused to accomplish another task that would ultimately doom humanity. All this time, they had kept Charlotte out of sight. They were certainly waiting for the right moment to use her. How could Miles let Monroe do this to her and to her family? At that moment, all she felt was fury and hate towards the two men.

The blonde woman struggled to regain her composure and to close the curtains. A plan needed to be worked out. She would accept no more tyranny from the Republic. She had found her daughter alive and she was going to do something about it. She quietly went to visit the only other patient in the infirmary: Charlotte's little brother. Rachel didn't tell her son she had found a precious member of their family alive.

She made her decision: They would escape. She knew some people who would help her: the rebels. They would help her in order to prevent Monroe from gaining access to electricity.

The next day at dawn, Clara arrived in Philly escorted by the Militia. She was no fool; she knew very well that the soldiers were there to make sure she didn't run. Upon arriving to the place where she used to live, she was immediately shown to an interrogation room. To her surprise, Sebastian Monroe and Miles Matheson walked in. Clearly, this matter was beyond important if the president and general were going to interrogate her themselves.

She would talk. All people crack under torture, and she knew she would be no exception. Clara wouldn't let things get to that. Nevertheless, she felt bad about Charlene. The young girl had never told her to keep quiet but she still felt like she was betraying her. The former maid didn't feel proud of what she was about to do. Charlene would not like for people to know how humiliated and mistreated she had been by Davidson. That evil man had walked on her, crushing her until the soldier she had been dissolved into thin air. Clara was glad he was dead.

"Why did Davidson decide to replace you?"

"I don't know."

"And you don't care? I don't buy it. All maids want to know why they were sacked." Mocked Miles

"He wanted things to stay quiet." Whispered Clara

"What are you talking about?"

"Mr. President, you had just met Charlene."

"So? What is your point exactly?"

"Did she ever tell you how she came to live with Colonel Davidson?"

"He was the only family she had left."

"How is this relevant to the investigation?" asked Miles in a frustrated tone. "We want to know if Davidson had enemies. We already know he was brutalizing her."

"And raping her, and crushing her." Added Clara in anger

"Why didn't you tell anyone? You witnessed crimes and kept them quiet!" Bass was furious now.

"I have a family and Davidson knew that. He would have found a way to hurt them."

"I might as well tell you that…"

Clara's sentence was cut off by bells ringing. Something bad was going on in Independence Hall.

A guard came in running and told the two leaders rebels had broken in. It was an extraction mission. By the time people noticed what was going on, they had gotten away.

"Who were they there for?" yelled Monroe.

"Their mission was obviously to extract Rachel Matheson and the two people staying in the infirmary."

"What the fuck do you mean "obviously"? Are they gone?" Now it was Miles's face that was red with barely contained rage.

"We managed to get Rachel Matheson back. We are bringing her next door as I speak, Sir."

Clara was following the exchange with rapt interest. Who were the two people who had escaped?

"Wait Wait Wait" said the president "why would they want to take Charlene away too?"

He turned back to stare at Clara.

"What were you going to say? What do you know about Charlene that we don't?"

"She wasn't Davidson's niece."

"What? That can't be!"

Monroe's face paled suddenly as if he were standing in front of a chasm he had not seen before.

"Who is she?"

"She's Militia."

Both men almost laughed despite the tension filling the air like poisonous gas.

"You don't believe me?" said Clara with indignation "She is always wearing wide bracelets around her wrist. The brand is white and doesn't jump at you when you see it but it's there. I've seen it."

"Why would Davidson parade her around as his niece?" asked Monroe in a small voice.

"To hide the fact that he took an underage Militia recruit and made her his sexual slave"

"Underage? Are you sure?"

"Hardships make people look older but I observed her when she thought no one was watching. I'm pretty sure she's less than 18 years old."

"Oh, shit"

Clara was feeling more confident for some reason. They looked as if someone had dropped a bomb on them. They didn't seem so threatening now. These pathetic men never see anything besides themselves.

"Davidson was a son of a bitch! He took a young girl he fancied and imprisoned her. When she arrived she was tough, a real soldier. I wanted to leave many times but I stayed to be beside her. He destroyed her!"

But what did Charlie have to do with Rachel and the rebels?


	10. Chapter 10

Your Insanity Cost Me

The two men left Clara to go deal with the crisis. Bass ordered the guards to keep the former maid there: he wasn't done with her yet. He then went to see Rachel in another interrogation room.

"You must be pretty pissed to have been caught."

A nasty black bruise was forming on her cheekbone but she looked into Bass's eyes and smirked. No one was getting to her now. Her strength and hate radiated from her smile.

"In the end, I got what I wanted."

"You got your son out, I get it. You will pay for it though. Five guards were killed by your precious rebels."

"They're not my rebels. We made a deal, that's all."

Bass had deliberately kept Miles out of the room by asking him to organize a search party. But he had a feeling his brother would be back any minute now. Rachel mattered too much to him.

"And now you won't be able to threaten to hurt him or kill him anymore. The time when you played with me like a puppet master is over. Those days are gone, Bass!"

"You also kidnapped Charlene Pittman, who was not a prisoner. I don't know how you learned about my relationship with her, but I can only guess that you did it out of sheer hatred."

Rachel stared at him in surprised and frowned.

"Charlene Pittman? Are you fucking playing dumb with me right now?!" she spat.

At that moment Miles walked in.

"We got a search party out. We'll find them."

"Worried about your family, Miles?" Sneered Rachel disgustedly

"Come on, Rach. I cannot let him go! Besides, do you really trust those savages?"

"They are no more savage then the brutes you call the Militia!"

Rachel was almost screaming now.

"And I suppose you're not looking for her? Are you really going to pretend she was not there? I saw her!"

"Saw who? Charlene? Why did you even bother taking her away?"

Both men looked extremely confused.

"Rach, you gave the rebels a real pain in the ass of a girl."

She opened her eyes wide and went back and forth between them. Monroe looked annoyed and Bass' eyes were shooting daggers at Miles.

"Oh my god"

"What?"

"Oh my god! You don't know? This is even worse than what I thought."

She felt tears welling in her eyes and spilling slowly on her cheeks. They had not kept Charlie hidden away from her to use as a trump card. The man she thought she loved didn't even know his own daughter. Charlie was officially his niece but Rachel had always known who had fathered her eldest child. She had chosen it keep it secret to protect her family.

Rachel let out a sound that was halfway between laughter and sobbing. She smiled and a fresh wave of tears soaked her face.

"Rachel" said Bass "what the hell is going on?"

The half-sobbing half-laughing mess in front of him was starting to scare them both. Her grip on sanity seemed to slip with every passing year but they had never seen her like this.

"So I guess she was your girlfriend, Bass. That is disgusting but, oh so funny in a way. At least she wasn't Miles's"

"I'm beyond confused." Interrupted Miles "we just learned she used to be a Militia soldier and now you have her kidnapped along with Danny."

Suddenly her tears stopped and she turned her head to stare right into Miles's soul. If eyes could kill, hers would have melted his brain.

"How the fuck could you not recognize her? How the fuck did this happen?"

"How exactly am I supposed to know her? Oh Hell, I don't get it. I give up!" Miles threw up his hands in frustration.

"She is half you, you fucking idiot! The girl you call Charlene is your seventeen-year-old daughter Charlotte!" screamed Rachel at the top of her lungs.

The world seemed to stop right then. Neither man moved or made a sound, too stunned to even speak for a minute.

"My…my daughter?"

"Charlotte was only Ben's on paper. But I always knew."

"Oh fuck"

"No No No NO" Miles grabbed his own head and agonized over the piece of news. He walked over to Rachel and pulled her on her feet by the collar.

"You told me she had died! "Continued Miles in an enraged tone. He let her go and turned away from her, almost as if the sight of her was too much to take. Rachel took a few steps back to rest her back on the cold, damp wall. Wiping her teary face, she started speaking in a trembling pleading voice. Miles was fully capable of murder.

"I had to give her a chance. I didn't know if she was dead or alive. How could I have known? I have been a prisoner here for years! But if there was even a tiny chance that she was out there somewhere I couldn't send you on her trail. Charlie deserved a shot at living outside four walls."

"But she wasn't even close to free" Lamented Bass in a small voice from the other corner of the room. He was sitting against the wall, his head hanging down.

Bass felt too stunned to say more than that. Everything he had lived with her was a lie. Every moment he had spent with her felt different to him now. Charlotte Matheson was now in every single one of them. The little girl he saw before the Blackout had been right before his eyes. He felt like a blind man; a dirty blind man to be precise. He had fallen in love and slept with a seventeen year old. Despite all the things he had learned about her, he wouldn't know how to react if she were to materialize in front of him.

However, one thing was sure: Rachel's cover up had made no difference. Charlie's life hadn't been one of freedom.

Now she was out: out of Independence Hall, out of Philly. Out of the place she never called home. Away from the threat the body of her child's father represented. Away from the beautiful monster who loved only Miles and her. Away from the Uncle who despised her. She breathed more easily next to her brother, whom she had mothered like he was her own. Listening to his breathing she mused it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

The night rain battered the world outside and she was safe and sound in a rebel hideout, resting on an old cot next to her little brother. She felt happy and sad at the same time. The nostalgia of her lost childhood kept her awake. Teenage Danny looked so grown up for his age. They had recognized her each other instantly. Charlie hadn't told him she was pregnant yet. She had not told him much at all: she didn't want him to treat her differently. She had never told her story to anyone.

The young woman wanted everyone to think her child was the product of happiness. She wished the baby's father was Bass, not matter his shortcomings and flaws. And she wanted to see him again so badly. However, she wanted to face him with a sharp mind and a strong heart; both things she had lost to Davidson's maddening cruelty and heartlessness. It was high time she became herself again.

Rachel had gotten caught while saving her children. She was not very motherly towards Charlie. Maybe she saw too much of herself and Miles in her. Danny had the soft touch of his father. Rachel wanted to redeem herself. She loved her daughter and she regretted acting coldly when she was concerned. It was okay as long as they were together out there. Her mission was complete; even if she now lay in a cold prison cell.

Miles and Bass can rot in Hell, she thought.


	11. Chapter 11

The Aftermath

"I've been told you wanted to know more about Charlotte. I'm guessing you are her mother. You look alike." Clara cast a look towards the woman sitting on a metal chair, heavily restrained. Bass and Miles were there too, sitting on more comfortable seats. Clara was nervously looking around the room.

Rachel nodded curtly. She had the look of a defeated woman. Her sunken eyes where swollen and red from all the tears, the bags underneath her eyes appeared to be almost black. Yet this woman shook Clara to her very core. She was scared of her and yet no words had been spoken on her part.

Miles and Bass barely looked better. This was looking more and more like a therapy session for the deeply depressed. The young woman wanted nothing more than to turn around and leave; go far away from Philly and never come back to this filthy city. Having been given no choice, she sat down and nervously wrung her hands before speaking.

"I don't know what to tell you."

Bass, looking extremely fatigued and sad, glanced at her and urged her in a low voice:

"Start from the day you met her."

Clara pressed her hands to the metal table to keep them from trembling too much. She felt dark days coming. Oh Hell, was she ever getting out of here?

She told them all the gruesome details pertaining to the abuse. She didn't want to say the words out loud and from the expressions she was observing, they didn't really want to hear all those horrible things. She took pity on herself and the other occupants of the interrogation room and also told them a few good things they should know about Charlotte. She had been conscripted at age 14 but she had trained hard and used to be a good soldier. She actually worked as a scout. Charlie had once told her how she would keep track of things that were long gone. Most people were blind to the small details but Charlie saw them and understood them. She also used to have a friend called Jason. Clara couldn't say if they had ever been more than friends but she had accepted to become Davidson's slave in an attempt to save him. Davidson had threatened Jason's life and Charlie had always felt so guilty about the whole ordeal. Another thing to Charlie's credit was that she had stayed hidden in the enemy's nest for so long. Of course, Clara hadn't known who she was at the time but Charlie had told the maid her family was dead. Charlie didn't waver.

She had never told anyone who she really was. She had remained so strong and yet so alone; the thought made Clara tear up. The young woman had never snapped at anyone or said one unkind word. When Clara had been forced to leave she had squeezed her hands and given her a big warm smile, wishing her luck. Clara wanted them to know how much of a good person Charlie was. She was the kind of girl that didn't care about clothes or hairstyles. In Charlie's book, the best outfit was a simple one and it preferably involved pants. The young woman also seemed to really enjoy reading and Clara had enjoyed more than one intelligent conversation with her.

Rachel was crying and smiling at the same time. She was so sorry for her daughter and yet she felt

so proud of her. She had turned out to be such a good, decent woman. Rachel knew she didn't get all these good traits from her. She was not blind: she knew perfectly well how much of a cold and manipulative person she could be at times. She had tried doing things differently but old habits kept on creeping back. She couldn't help who she was on the inside.

Clara only kept quiet about one incident because General Matheson looked like he wanted to hang himself, Rachel Matheson was crying, and the President's face had taken on a suspicious green tint. She couldn't tell them about the day she found Charlie about to try to slit her own wrists in the bath. That decision had been a great moment of weakness on Charlie's part and she had regretted her intentions once Clara had forcibly talked her out of taking her own life. She knew Charlie wasn't really suicidal; she had very difficult moments, and understandably so.

She really felt like hair in soup, watching the two most powerful men in the Republic appear so utterly lost.

Miles Matheson was feeling like shit. He had failed every fucking thing that mattered in life. Starting a relationship with his brother's life was already pretty bad but what he had done to his daughter made his stomach twist in disgust. And there was absolutely no use mentioning his gruesome role in the creation of the Republic or the fact that he had made captives of his own relatives. The things he had said to her sickened him to his very core. He wanted to die every time he remembered how he had treated her. All along, he had been blind. Charlie, however, had most probably been aware that he was her uncle (Rachel had never told her who her real father was either). She must see him as a heartless monster. Now, she was gone and he couldn't make amends until he got her back. Miles Matheson believed he was headed straight for Hell when he died but the thought of not making this right, at least as right as he could make this mess, was unbearable.

A suspicion was growing in Clara's mind. Telling stories about Charlie had reminded her about the fearless, unbroken woman she had been at the very beginning. She felt her heart swell at the thought that Charlie had found some of her old self underneath the ghost Davidson had made of her. The more the former maid pondered it, the more realistic her scenario seemed. However, was it wise to share her thoughts with the others? Maybe it was her duty to let them know. Not because they were still investigating the matter, but because it meant so much in light of what they had just heard about the young woman. The victim had killed her aggressor; which could only mean that Charlie was still very much herself deep down. How odd it would seem, conveying a message of hope by accusing Charlie of murder committed in self-defence.

"Before I leave, there's something I should tell you."

"Sure, go ahead."

"After all the things I have told you, it seems your murder investigation should end."

"Why is that? The killer still hasn't been apprehended." Replied Bass in a bored tone

Clara took a look around the room. Miles was still wallowing in self-pity and did not seem to be paying much attention to the things surrounding him. Bass looked mildly annoyed, which seemed very peculiar on his depressed mien. Rachel Matheson was the only one truly paying attention to Clara. Her eyes were shining bright with intensity and her lips curved upward almost unperceivably.

"I think there is a very good chance Charlie is the killer you have been searching for."


	12. Chapter 12

I've Never Met Charlotte Matheson

After spending two weeks hiding in a small rebel's camp and waiting for things to die down, Charlie and her brother were moved to a more permanent site. The size of the place really took her by surprise and she wondered how the Militia had not already found it. It housed so many people that the young woman guessed she was now staying at the Rebel's headquarters. Life at the base ran like clockwork. Meals were served at regular hours and strict rules forbidding loud noises, drunkenness, and disorderly conduct were enforced. They had told her repeatedly that she and Dany were not prisoners but they forbade the siblings from going outside and kept an eye on them at all times. It appeared the Militia was still looking for them. And, although she had not exactly left of her own free will, she decided to stay put for a while. She couldn't stand the thought of putting Dany in danger. Besides, the pregnancy was starting to be visible and soon even clothes would not be able to hide it. She needed to find the courage to tell Dany soon.

Charlie and her brother had to get used to each other again. She had parted with a little boy and she had trouble seeing him as the gangly teenager he had become. Now he towered over her and believed he was a man. She smiled at thought: Dany would forever be a tiny little boy in her eyes. He told her what living with Rachel as a prisoner of the Monroe Republic was like. Charlie was relieved to hear he had generally been treated well and that Monroe had not touched her little brother. However, she now had the confirmation that Miles and Bass were the sole reason her entire family had been captured. Sebastian Monroe had a hand in her father's death and he and Miles had spent the last few years threatening and terrorizing what was left of her family. How could she reconcile the cold brute who had destroyed her life with the man who cared for her and wanted to protect her and the baby?

Contrary to her brother, she didn't share much of her life after they were separated. She told him that she had been conscripted and had fought in Monroe's army. The lies she told after that felt necessary to shelter herself and her brother. She pretended to have saved a very high ranking officer from a homemade terrorist bomb attack. The bomb had gone off but she hadn't been able to run away fast enough. The impact had knocked her out and kept her in a hospital bed for a long time. The grateful officer had decided to personally see to her well-being and had placed her in the Independence Hall recovery ward. She felt that story would best explain what she doing in the infirmary and why she felt dizzy and nauseous from time to time: the explosion had messed with her inner ear.

Charlene Pittman had turned out to have so many secrets that it still bewildered Monroe. She was pregnant, the victim of abuse, rape, and sequestration. She was a Militia conscript turned broken soldier. She was his best friend's daughter and her name was Charlotte Matheson. Charlotte Matheson had also turned out to be quite the actress in addition to being a cold-blooded innocent looking murderess. Sebastian Monroe wasn't sure which part surprised him the most but he never thought that he, a self-declared paranoid man, would allow himself to become so close with someone he didn't know at all. She had lied and lied and lied. He was impressed that someone

could tell so many lies about so many things and not slip once.

Miles Matheson was falling into an alcohol-fuelled depression. The multiples troops he had personally led to search for his daughter and nephew had come back empty-handed. He never visited Rachel anymore, too hurt by her lies and too ashamed of himself for behaving the way he had with their daughter. About a month after the rebel abduction, Bass found Miles drowning his sorrows with a bottle of homemade hooch against the wall of his office. He took one look at his brother and went to sit next to him against the wall.

"So we haven't even talked about it but you must be pretty pissed at me."

"Why the hell would I be pissed at you?" slurred Miles

"You know Charlie and I…"

"I really wish I hadn't said those things to her. She's not here so I can't tell her I'm sorry. She's not here and I can't find her. I want to die but I know I can't because I need, yes I need, to make it up to her if I can. I gotta try." Rambled Miles

"Miles, I think there is something I need to tell you about her. I…"

"Fuck, Bass. I don't care if you had a thing with her. You didn't know. Hell, I had no idea. I was so mean, such an asshole. She thinks I'm a bastard. She hates me, I'm sure. Oh man, where is she?" whined Miles

"Miles, you need to know this. And before you get mad, I had nothing to do with it. I mean it, Miles, it wasn't me. I can't say I didn't wish it had been at the time but it's not. And it's so messed up. I didn't know how to tell you after they took her."

Miles turned slowly to stare at a scared Bass.

"What the fuck are you trying to tell me? Spit it out!"

"Miles, you are going to be a grandpa. I guess congratulations should be in order."

Miles seized Bass by his collar and shook him violently.

"What did you do?! I swear I will kill you. You did…"

"Miles, remember when I said I didn't do it?" gulped Bass uneasily.

Miles' face veered from bright red to stricking paleness.

"No no no no. Aw fuck no. That evil bastard did it."

"Yes, he did. But, Miles, she's okay now. He's dead. He won't hurt her ever again."

"But I don't know where she is. She needs to be with family. She's too young and I need to take care of her. She can't be out there with a baby on the way."

"I know but she is with Dany. She'll be fine. We will find her and bring her back."

"Wait, how long have you known this?"

"A while"

"But you were still hanging around her."

"I didn't care. I thought I loved her so I told her I would stay with her no matter what."

Miles looked at him with strangely sad eyes.

"You don't love her?"

"Look, I know she's your daughter and everything, but she lied to me. Charlene Pittman never existed and I don't know Charlie Matheson. So I'm not sure of what I feel."

"But I'm sure she's a great person. I remember her when she was little. She looked so cute in her ballerina costumes and she spoke so well. She's really smart and…"

He trailed off and looked lost in his thoughts for a while.

"Fuck! Rachel should have told me. I hate her. But, Bass, you met Charlie as a kid too. I remember you were there for Thanksgiving one year. She was like three years old. You liked her and played with her."

"Hum, Miles, are you trying to sell me on the idea of Charlotte Matheson? It sounds like you want me to like her. And by the way, you have the creepiest way of doing it. I don't want to think about the fact that I slept with someone I knew as a toddler!"

"Oh no, I don't want to think about you sleeping with my daughter. Hands off her you hear me?!"

Miles took another sip and burped.

"You know you completed contradicted yourself there? You're so drunk you don't even know what you are saying. Go sleep it off."

He obediently got up and wobbled to the door.

"Oh, and, Miles? I am going to personally go out there and find her. I will find her for you. You have my word."

Miles raised his index in the air and shook it with what he deemed an air of authority. He proceeded to drunkenly yell at Bass:

"I am her father and I do not give my consent. You are not getting my consent!"

For the first time in weeks, Bass smiled at Miles's drunken attempt at being fatherly.

He wanted to find her for his brother but he also had a few issues with her that needed sorting. His heart seemed to constrict at the thought and he exhaled loudly before taking the bottle of liquor Miles had abandoned on the floor. He had never really met Charlotte Matheson yet his heart thumped painfully at the thought of her. So much for rational thinking…


	13. Chapter 13

Long Time No See

 _Two months after Charlie and Dany were extracted from Philly._

The men and women in charge of the rebel base had actually believed her when she told them her Militia brand had been acquired in a most unwilling fashion. Nonetheless, they decided to put her and Dany in charge of peeling potatoes for dinner. Charlie felt sure they had decided not to take any risks with the Matheson siblings. Their last name told too many unsavory stories.

They literally spent endless hours sitting next to each other, peeling cold potatoes until their hands felt numb. Living in a military camp made Charlie quite restless once again. This environment felt extremely familiar and almost comforting in a way. She understood the chain of command, taking orders, being a fresh recruit (so long ago it seemed), and feeling protected from the outside world. She had felt quite safe in the Militia at first. Davidson had not managed to take that feeling away; he had forcibly removed her almost as soon as she agreed to become his whore.

She knew how kitchens worked in the army and she felt at ease with the personnel. Dany took some time to adjust to the new routine. He knew how to cook but he had been a prisoner for so long that he had some serious remembering to do. The young women figured that the adjustment had to be more difficult for him than it was for her. This rebel camp made her remember what it was like to be a soldier. The memories empowered her and she wished she could train and handle weapons again. Unfortunately, they had only trusted her with an old peeler. Besides she was going to have to tell Dany about the baby. She wasn't looking forward to it but some cooks threw her suspicious looks at times. They were putting two and two together and soon everyone would be aware of her situation.

One morning she decided today would be the day. She would sit him down for a chat at some point, away from curious ears. As they made their way to the mess hall she heard cheers; the rebels were welcoming a party of returning warriors. The morning kitchen staff had sat them down at the biggest table where they were currently feasting on eggs, bacon, and sausages. Charlie felt a wave of nausea come on, triggered by the smell of grease combined with the strong chicory smell. She wanted to throw up but she forced herself to follow her brother, approaching the table to take an inquisitive look at the apparent heroes.

She froze in place the moment she recognized one of the dirty men: Jason was alive! Unfortunately he looked up and saw her at the precise moment the need to empty her stomach overpowered her iron will. She ran to the nearest trash can. What a nice way to tell him she was glad to see him again after all this time of not knowing. Dany stared at her suspiciously: him and the rest of the mess hall. When she entered the Militia, a training officer had told her stealth was her strong suit; he would be furious now. Way to make yourself inconspicuous, Charlie. Nice job!

One of the cooks came forward and broke the silence:

One of the cooks came forward and broke the silence:

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing"

"It's obviously something. You work in the kitchens. Go to Sick Bay. You're not touching a potato until the doctors clear you."

Charlie must have looked pitiful because she added.

"Your brother should accompany you"

She gave Jason, who had stood up and was now staring at her with eyes so wide they threatened to leave his head, a regretful look and walked out with Dany on her heels.

"What's going on, Charlie?" whispered the young teenager.

"Nothing. No big deal."

"Come one, Sis. Not to me. I don't know how but I feel like something is different. You are up to something. I can just feel the conspiracy flowing out of your pores!"

"Dany, quit interrogating me! I feel sick, all that food made me sick."

"No, I've seen you get randomly sick ever since we got here. You thought I didn't know. And who the hell is that guy, by the way?"

"I used to know him in the Militia."

"Ooh, was he your boyfriend?"

"No, he wasn't my boyfriend."

"But you liked him. And he liked you too. I can just tell…just like mom and Miles. They thought I didn't know but it was obvious."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, that's right I've never told you. I think mom and Miles have a thing. And I think it's been going on for a while."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure"

"We'll talk about our amazing and open family once I'm done here" she replied with a finger pointing to the cardboard sign titled "Sick bay". "Stay outside"

"Wait, Charlie" He took her by the elbow "Are you really sick?" he asked with worried eyes.

"No, I'm not really sick. I was actually going to tell you today. Wait for me here."

She went inside and sat in the waiting area. Her butt had barely touched the chair when Jason (of all people!) walked in and sat next to her.

"Long time no see."

That was his line? Seriously?

"I'm glad to see you are alright."

"Likewise"

She felt tears well up in her eyes. Damn pregnancy hormones!

"So, you have a brother. I thought your family was dead."

"Sorry."

She looked up and saw his eyes were misty like hers. The calm conversation didn't reflect any of what she was seeing though. His hands were also trembling slightly.

"I thought you were dead. He promised you would be dead."

"Charlie, I would have been if I hadn't deserted and joined the rebels. Believe it or not, I didn't think you would have survived long with that animal either."

"I escaped too."

"Charlie, I'm so sorry. I wish I had been stronger back then."

"Don't you dare! He would have killed you. You were my only friend. I didn't want him to harm you. I feel so bad about it."

She wiped her wet cheeks with her long sleeve and averted her gaze for a second.

"How did you leave? He wanted you so badly."

"Someone saved me: a higher ranking officer."

"Who?"

The nursed beckoned her and she reluctantly approached her. Looking back at Jason she understood how much curiosity must be devouring him right now. But some of her stories were too ugly to say aloud.

"Miss Matheson, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing! I think my blood sugar was a bit low, that's all."

"Are you sure?"

The older woman frowned, her eyes going up and down her body. Her palm went to rest against her forehead, assessing her temperature.

She made a face again when she found out the young woman's face felt cool against it. The girl looked a bit flushed.

Next, her hand touched her lower abdomen. She didn't know what inspired that gesture but sure enough, she felt a bump.

Well, that was out. Jason blanched noticeably and gaped at her in confusion.

She felt like vomiting once more. How did all her secrets manage to get out? Especially now of all

times! Curse that fucking morning sickness!

"You really thought you could fool me? You couldn't hide it for much longer anyway."

Turning to Jason was out of the question now. Imagining his face was more than enough.

The nurse didn't bother hiding anything from the people inside Sick Bay when she examined her pregnant belly from under her shirt. The entire base would know within hours. News travelled fast in this place. Charlie shot her a dirty look.

The moment the nurse was finished with the examination she left without a word and took Dany to a secluded place in order to talk to him. She tried to leave out as many details as she could but at least he was aware now.

Jason spent the remainder of the morning looking desperately for the siblings. He finally found them hiding in a utility closet. Her pregnancy was the story of the day. He knew he had absolutely no right to feel jealous but he couldn't control it. He had fallen in love with her a long time ago and the feelings had just been buried in a shallow grave for the past year.

Dany left them alone when he saw Jason hug Charlie like a dying man. He needed time to digest the news anyway. Charlie had refused outright to tell him anything about the father.

Sitting down against the wall, Jason put his arm around the girl he loved and squeezed her.

"I know you probably don't want to talk about, Charlie, but I need to know. Is the baby…"

"It's not Davidson's."

"Then who did that to you?"

"The other person I told you about, the one who helped me."

"That officer? Charlie, you're a minor. Militia officers are old. How could you? Actually no. How could he?"

She pushed herself away from him.

"Oh, shut up Jason! You don't know what I've been through. Don't talk about things you don't understand."

"Charlie, that's still messed up. First, I find out you are a Matheson. So your uncle is one of the founders of the Militia. Now, I find out another high ranking officer got you pregnant. How did that happen? What did they do to you? How did you get away from Davidson?"

"No one had any idea who I was. I think it was my mom that figured it out when she visited Dany in the infirmary. That's what Dany told me. I'm pretty sure they all know now though."

After a moment she added:

"Knowing every detail wouldn't help you sleep, trust me. Davidson is dead. My mom made a deal with you guys to get us out. That's all you need to know."

"But are you okay with this?"

He clearly meant her pregnancy, as she understood from his downward gaze.

"I'm fine with it."

"Really? You are strong. I knew that but I don't know how you got out in one piece. I had never met a man like Davidson. He was a psychopath."

She shuddered at the thought of her baby sharing his DNA.

"I really don't want to talk about it. He's dead."

Jason covered his eyes and cleared his throat.

"Do you love him?"

"Who? Davidson?! Are you crazy?"

"Sorry, I mean the father. Do you love him?"

"I really don't want to talk about this."

"Does that mean yes?"

"Jason! You haven't changed one bit. You're so annoying!"

"Did you know I loved you?"

Her cheeks took on a deep pink color.

"You never told me."

"You must have known! I wasn't being very subtle about it."

"You were more subtle than 90% of the guys who tried something, but I kind of knew."

"I can't believe I'm asking this but did you ever feel anything for me?"

"I'm sorry, Jason. I've never been good at opening myself up to people. I wanted to protect myself. But I liked you. You were the only friend I had in that camp. I trust you."

"It really sucks because I really want you."

He leaned in towards her and she got the feeling he wanted to kiss her.

"Hum. I should go." She got up and left without another word. Jason had changed a bit. She really got the feeling he wanted to touch her. Old feelings of panic rose in her chest. Jason is not like Davidson! He wouldn't touch her unless she wanted to, right? She was probably being paranoid but at that precise moment she felt her hate for men surface again. Guess she had lied about trusting Jason after all.

Meanwhile, spies were making their reports to the Generals in Philadelphia. Once they left, Bass turned to Miles with a determined yet grim expression.

"I'm leaving tomorrow. Now we know where they are hiding. We are getting both of them back in one piece."

"I'm coming with you."

"We need someone to stay in Philly and be in charge."

"Give the job to Baker. You are out of your mind if you think I'm staying here when we know where she is."


	14. Chapter 14

Brave is the Heart that Beats Beneath

The rebel leaders sat at the table in their command center, utterly astonished by the recent news. Undercover spies had come late last night to announce that the Generals were marching on their hidden location. Sebastian Monroe and Miles Matheson would be there by the end of the week with an army. Clearly, they were coming for the Matheson children.

"What are we supposed to do with them?"

"We made a promise to her mother but if they are going to be a threat to everyone here I vote we get rid of them."

"You would have the guts to kill a kid and a pregnant woman, Walter?"

"Unlike you, Lydia, I'm not a psychopath. Of course, I meant we should trade them."

"Against what?"

"Geez, I don't know, prisoners? Did you leave your brain at home today?"

The woman fell silent, sulking.

"I have another piece of information you may find interesting" Added the weary spy.

"More interesting than telling us we have only a few days to evacuate and leave everything behind?"

"We're not going to fight them, sir?"

"With their numbers? They would crush us and you know it."

"I believe you were about to say something" interjected the woman.

"Sebastian Monroe and Charlotte Matheson were together for a while before she came to us."

"Together?"

"I believe they were involved in a romantic relationship, ma'am" replied the spy uncomfortably.

"Oh, why am I not surprised? That pig! She's a baby" spat one of the men.

"Wait! Isn't she pregnant?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Monroe Republic is going to run us over because he wants his baby

and his baby mama back. Great, that is just great. I guess he just didn't have the right motivation before but he certainly does now."

The infuriated middle-aged man threw his hands up in frustration and walked out just as two women were coming in with refreshments. They came out five minutes later and quickly turned the corner before stopping to look at each other.

"Did you hear what I heard because if it's true…"

"They have destroyed our lives by coming here" one of the two spat venomously.

"I never liked her. She acts nice but I can just tell something about her is just off."

"I think everyone deserves to know why we have to leave our entire lives behind, don't you think?"

An angry mob is a truly frightening thing. Charlie and Dany were put in protective custody. A hard-breathing Dany was now sporting a few cuts and bruises and Charlie had managed to escape with nothing more than a bruised rib and a painful knee thanks to Jason who had shown up just in the nick of time.

"How can they attack a pregnant woman?" asked Dany angrily while pacing back and forth.

"I heard they think Charlie is carrying the President's child."

They had requested Jason stay with them to act as their guard and he had gladly obliged them.

"Charlie" Dany stared at her in astonishment "Is that true?"

"No"

"But something happened between the two of you, didn't it?"

"Dany, I really wish you would stop walking in circles like that. You're making me dizzy."

"Don't dodge the subject! Charlie, what the hell is going one? I can tell you've been lying to me."

If having her brother on her back harassing her wasn't enough, Jason had to start asking questions too. The lies Charlie had been telling all along were coming out in broad daylight. The young woman could no longer hide from them. Dany had been told one story and Jason another. She was so tired of running from her life, so weary of pretending to be something she wasn't. All she wanted was for people to stop stepping on her. Charlie knew she appeared weak. No, she knew she was weak. And she needed to stop running and tell the story as it had really happened.

She started from the day they had come to the family house to take everyone to Philadelphia. She didn't sugarcoat it or add any details that hadn't actually happen. Dany wanted the truth? Then, she was going to give it to him.

Some sugarcoating might have been a good idea though. Her tale triggered an asthma attack and Dany was taken away to Sickbay, heavily guarded.

"Well, now I feel bad." She felt like laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"I still can't believe you had told him that crap about the explosion."

"Yeah, not my best."

"Not your best?" He stared at her like she had suddenly grown two heads.

"What? I agree it wasn't the best story I could have come up with."

"The best story? I'm starting to wonder if you've ever been frank with me at all. You obviously breathe out lies like nobody's business. And you don't even seem to feel bad about it!"

Jason was really starting to piss her off. Who the fuck did he think he was?

"No, I don't feel bad. Do you know why? Because I had no choice! I was on my own with the government looking for me! I had no one to rely on. No family, no friends who would agree to take me in once they found out I was part of the General's family. So, no, I don't feel bad. They are the reason I've managed to stay alive for so long."

She wanted to scream at the whole world. They had made her into a liar.

"Charlie, I just don't know who you are!"

"Yes, you do! You've just described me perfectly! I'm a professional liar. That's all I am because my life has been nothing but survival for the last three years. I become who I need to be in order to survive."

"To me you were a nice, strong, positive, beautiful girl."

"Well, you're wrong. I'm not nice and I'm definitely not strong."

"I still think you are."

"You've just said so yourself! You don't know me. So cut the crap and get out!"

Jason got up, his face closed off.

"I'm going to check on Dany. There are guards outside your door."

She wanted to yell at him not to bother coming back but she ground her teeth and turned away from him. Needing him to get them out of this mess was a very strong possibility.

Bass and Miles were on their way to get them back. The rebels would trade them in a heartbeat now that they were persuaded Bass was her baby's father. All she felt was apprehension at the thought of meeting him again. Reuniting with her uncle was something she could not even think about properly. The reunion should be interesting at least.

As the days passed, the mood inside the cell got tenser and tenser. The high-scale evacuation had begun. In the end, Dany, Jason and herself would be the only ones remaining underground.

Early one morning, Charlie and Dany were dragged out of bed and taken outside for the first time in a long while. The morning light blinded their eyes but the fresh air awakened every cell in her body. They were standing in a battlefield. Two armies had clearly been fighting all night. The mangled bodies of rebels lay on the ground all around them. Vultures were flying in circles above their heads. They had obviously been caught unprepared at the arrival of the Militia.

Lydia, a high ranking leader of the rebellion, had been taken prisoner by the Generals. Dany and Charlie were there to be exchanged against her. Jason insisted he would be coming as well but a man Charlie had never seen before restrained him.

Bass and Miles had led their army into battle. As expected, the militia had won without much

difficulty. Now, they would trade that exasperating woman against Charlie and her brother. Miles felt nervous because he couldn't see them yet. Right now all they cared about was getting them back safely.

Finally, they came into view. Bass's stomach knotted but he paid no mind to it. She stood only a few hundred yards away. They both seemed alright; a bit pale, but seemingly healthy. From the distance it was hard to tell but Bass could have sworn Charlie still appeared pregnant. The General let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Who's the guy with them?" asked Miles

"That would be the second in command. I guess Walter didn't want to risk his own skin."

"Who are we sending with Lydia?"

"I know you want to go, Miles. But I think Strausser will keep a cooler head than either of us. We cannot fuck this up."

He nodded at Strausser to go ahead. They were finally going to be reunited. When they returned to Philly, they could at last try to fix things.

They saw what happened from afar, powerless to do anything except run towards them. As the hostages walked alone to the middle of the field, Lydia viciously attacked Charlie with a tiny knife she must have stolen after they last checked her for weapons. The young woman struggled to protect her stomach, blocking the knife attacks with her arms. The older woman bellowed that Bass's heir would never see the light of day. Desperately, Dany tried to protect his sister.

Turning her attention to the young boy, Lydia shoved Charlie to the ground. The poor girl landed heavily on her stomach, distressingly crying out for her brother. She winced in pain and attempted to get up but the pain coursing through her body proved to be too much. Her bloody arms would not support her weight and her legs felt like rubber.

The whole ordeal happened in a few seconds. Strausser rushed to their position and seized Lydia. Quickly slitting her throat from behind, he immediately went after the remaining party of rebels. Finally something fun to do!

"Dany!" She stumbled to her brother, yelling his name in a desperate voice.

She held his face between her hands, watching the life going out of his blue eyes. Lydia's knife had found an artery in his neck.

He looked up at her, his fleeting attention focusing entirely on his sister. When Charlie felt Dany's body relax, his now empty gaze looking up at the sky, she let out a single heart-wrenching sob before the pain and blood loss took over.

When the two men reached the unconscious siblings, Miles went to Dany and shook him, but to no avail. They both knew the boy was dead. Bass lifted Charlie and ran back to their side of the field.


	15. Chapter 15

Prepare yourselves

Charlie woke up inside a spacious dark green army tent lined with a dozen empty sleeping cots. A few moments passed before she remembered why her sore arms were covered in white bandages. She sat up and, without warning, tears welled up in her eyes and her breathing sped up until a doctor noticed she was awake and rushed to her side.

"She's having a panic attack. Miss Matheson, it's alright. Your father is just outside talking to the returning officers. We won against the rebels. You're safe."

Her father was alive? Ben was alive and working for the Militia? What did that mean? Dany had sworn he was long gone. She didn't understand how he could be just outside that tent.

He pushed her back onto the thin pillow when she attempted to get up. Incensed, she seized him by the collar and winced in pain since that woman had left deep cuts on her palms and arms. She tried to remember what she wanted to ask him.

"Where is Dany?"

"Miss Matheson, let go of me!"

"No, I will see him! Where is he?"

Still clinging to the doctor, she was frantically looking around for her brother, hoping he would walk in.

But he would never walk again. Deep down, she knew that. She couldn't admit to it though. She would not accept it. Her baby brother had always been her responsibility. He was more important than anything else in the world. It was her job to make sure he was okay. No, taking care of him had always been much more than a simple job. Dany was her mission. She could not fail. Yet, she had. Miserably so. But somehow, she could not stop her from pretending, from hoping, that her brother would walk in. Come on, Dany!

Suddenly, the doctor slapped her. He had hit her hard enough to stun her out of her deliriousness. She let go of his shirt. Sucking in a shaky breath, her hand rose to touch her cheek. She looked at the man in front of her like she was just now noticing his presence.

"Miss Matheson, calm down. You're okay. Your baby is okay. We have no reason to think you'll miscarry." He whispered, apological. Her face was injured, she could report him for slapping her. But maybe one more slap didn't make much of a different in that sea of bruises.

"Where's Dany? And Jason?"

The doctor sighed audibly, trying to find the right words. Civilians were so difficult to deal with. To makes matters worse, that young woman was the General's newly found daughter; he had to tell her the bad news gently. Charlie's branded wrist made him want to go back to what was comfortable for him. He wanted to treat her like a soldier so he could return to feeling unconcerned about the fact that the cold body of a boy barely past childhood was lying rigidly underneath a white sheet.

"Dany did not survive, I'm afraid. I'm very sorry for your loss. And I don't know who Jason is. But we have to reason to think you will lose the baby. You were quite lucky. And we stitched up your forearms while you were asleep."

For the first time since waking up, her hands touched her stomach, remembering that someone was in there and that she might have lost him or her as well. Blood had begun to seep through the bandages on her hands but she felt so numb she barely noticed. She felt concern over the baby but Dany had been much more real than a bump. Charlie knew some women felt more attached to their growing foetus than anything else in the world. However, the young woman had yet to develop such strong feelings towards it. She hoped they would eventually manifest themselves as she got to know that new person. In her mind and in her heart there was a very clear distinction to be made between what was and what could have been.

Dany had lived for years, he had a personality that was all his and that was all real. She didn't have to imagine anything when thinking about him. Charlie knew what her brother looked like, what he sounded like, and what he meant to her. The first time life had taken him away from her, a doubt had remained. These past few weeks she had believed the universe had given her a second chance at fulfilling her mission. Now, Daniel Matheson was dead. He would never come back. The finality of the situation was sinking in, slowing clouding her vision. Everyone she cared for would eventually die.

"Jason was a rebel. He helped me. Is he a prisoner?"

"Again, I have no idea. We don't have a list of names yet."

He took a faded blue handkerchief from his blouse pocket and offered it to her. She took it mechanically but let her tears dribble down unchecked, the liquid drops making their way over her cheeks and past her trembling jaw. She looked about to sob and the doctor prayed for someone to do something so he didn't have to witness it. Her face looked ugly enough as it was. He didn't care to hear her heave and sob in addition. Briefly, he wondered whether his job had made him this cold in order to protect himself or, instead, if being an army doctor had revealed something that had been hiding inside all along.

Thankfully, a male nurse handed him a strong-smelling steamy mug. He assisted Charlotte in drinking it. The brew would help put her to sleep. Right before she closed her eyes, he promised her father would be there to see her when she woke up again.

The last coherent thought forming in her loopy brain was that Miles Matheson and Bass were responsible for all this. As for Ben Matheson, he would better have a goddamn impregnable defence. If her father had had something to do with Dany's death, she might not be able to forgive him in this lifetime.

Naturally, Bass and Miles were immediately made aware that Charlie was awake but by the time they reached the tent, the doctor had come out to tell them he had managed to send her back to Morpheus' arms. Her mental state seemed fragile but he assured them that he had seen worse. Her bodily injuries would heal with time, although her arms and hands would most likely remain

scarred for life. For now, the baby seemed safe but medical personnel would continue to monitor her for signs of a miscarriage.

They both sat at her bedside. For now, they would make camp here while the army swept up the last fleeing remnants of the rebellion. Usually the lightly injured soldiers were parked on horsedrawn open carriages; discomfort and pain were part of the deal. They didn't stop unless they absolutely had to. Of course, Charlie was an entirely different story. The army would camp out here as long as it took for her to feel well enough to travel.

Bass had a hard time looking at her calmly. She looked horrendous. Her pretty face was covered in bruises and a few cuts. Her arms and hands were completed wrapped in bandages. He could see blood seeping through in some spots. She had also lost quite a bit of blood. He had carried her as quickly as he could to safety but by the time he had reached a doctor his clothes had been largely stained with her blood.

Then, there was the baby. It was a miracle it was still clinging to life inside her. He knew women's bodies were designed to protect their offspring, but seeing her small body so damaged made him wonder how she could protect anyone in this state. Yet, for now, their baby was safe. He scolded himself. She wasn't carrying his baby at all. But from the moment he had agreed to take care of it and Charlie, he had started to imagine his future life as a father. Bass had imagined a little boy or a little girl learning how to walk. He had thought about reading him or her stories at bedtime. If that baby lived to be born he wanted to be part of its life, somehow.

He didn't know what would happen with Charlie, but he felt like his life would be linked to hers anyway. Walking away from her felt impossible, no matter what lies she had told him. Deep down, he just hoped part of her felt something for him. He could work with next to nothing, as long as there was something to work with. Her age had shocked him, of course. But he figured they had time. He could wait for her for a little while. Besides, she was more mature than most women ten years older than her. Hopefully, Miles would understand that he had to give it a try, even if she was much younger than he had anticipated.

The president just hoped everyone else would see things from his point of view, as usual. Sometimes he felt like a pervert, but he had thought about it a lot on the way to the rebel base. He wouldn't do anything she didn't feel comfortable with and he would take things very slowly.

Feeling observed, he looked up to see Miles staring at him intently.

"What?"

"I know you, Bass. I've known you all my life. If you're thinking about whether this thing you had with her could work, let me stop you right there. You're way too old and she's in no shape to take care of you and your feelings on top of everything else."

Sometimes Bass wished Miles would stop being so good at reading him.

"Jesus, Miles."

"So I was right. Like I said, I know you, Bass. I know you can get really attached and genuinely disgustedly in love when you want to be. But she just lost her brother. And I just found her. I need to work on getting to know her. I also need her to forgive me for all the horrible things I've said. Don't get in my way."

"I won't. I never intended to."

"Good, just as long as you remember what you've said to me. We'll get along. But I will keep my

eyes wide open, looking out for her. So be careful, Bass. And I say that as a friend. I truly do."

Bass didn't really care what Miles said as long as he could still be a part of their life. For now, being around was good enough.

During the night, Charlie woke up from a nightmare to find Miles and Bass sleeping on cots next to hers. A medic was half asleep in a corner of the tent. He woke up fully when he heard her move but she waved him away silently. She felt okay, she didn't need anything. Of course, her entire body hurt like hell. But the pain wasn't so bad if she made an effort not to move. Instead, she turned her head to observe the men asleep close to her. They looked peaceful. She wondered if her father really was out there. She thought about waking them up but didn't feel up to a lengthy discussion yet. Even asleep Bass managed to look sexy. Chasing the thought away wasn't hard but she mentally reprimanded herself for thinking it at all.

Those two men had started the Republic and had built it from the ground up. They had done so in hopes of helping people. However, somewhere along the way, they seemed to have lost that vision. Growing up, Charlie had seen the mess they had created. During her stay at the rebel base she had heard even more horror stories about the two brothers-in-arm. The rebels were no good but that didn't make the Republic any better. How could she let her child grow up in such a world? She felt too fatigued to think on it now, but she would need to take a good look at her options once she felt up for it. The Republic was a mistake, she felt sure of it now. Her child deserved to grow in a place free of tyrannical leaders.

For now, Charlie would play nice, gathering her strength slowly. Nevertheless, she could no longer guarantee she would let them do as they pleased. There would come a time to make her move. She settled back on the cot and closed her eyes. There would be lots of time to think in the coming months.


	16. Chapter 16

Say The Word

Bass stood outside the medical tent while Miles was having his first serious talk with Charlie. The tension in the air was palpable. He was expecting her to react violently to the news. Miles had told Bass how mean he had been to her when she lived at Independence Hall. Now Miles had to apologize as an Uncle and to finally come clean about his love affair with her mom and about the baby that had resulted from it. Bass didn't envy him one bit. They were too far away to make out what they were saying. Miles almost ran into Bass on his way out.

"Trying to eavesdrop, Bass? What a class act!" he barked. He looked furious.

As Miles stormed off, Bass took a look inside to see how Charlie was. He was almost afraid to go talk to her but sheer curiosity took over. He hadn't actually gotten a chance to talk to her alone since her rescue from the rebels.

As she watched him approach her, she looked even more furious than Miles. Her banged up face made her look murderous. Her eyes continued to follow him and he finally settled on the cot next to hers.

"Can I help you, Bass?" she sounded about ready to spit out venom.

"Is there something wrong? I saw Miles run out of here like his pants were on fire."

Smooth, Bass.

"Are you talking about the fact that my mother was my uncle's prisoner, that half my family is dead, that my only friend is missing, that I'm so messed up I'll have nasty scars for life, or that my uncle is really my father? Take your pick!"

"Wow. Um, yeah that's a lot. I know. But you have to understand Miles, Charlie. He didn't know who you were and when he found out he still had no clue you were actually his daughter. Your mom hid that fact from everyone."

When she didn't answer, he continued.

"Your father dying was an accident, I swear. As for Danny, I'm so sorry, Charlie. I know what it's like to lose close family."

She shot him an inquisitive look.

"You remember the stories I told you about my sisters?" She nodded "They died along with my parents a few years before the Blackout. A drunk driver crashed into their car."

Her expression softened a bit.

"I'm sorry, Bass. That must have been terrible."

"Your unc…I mean, your dad saved my life. I got so messed up after their funeral that I almost decided to join them in the afterlife. Miles brought me back from the brink. I know he doesn't look like a good guy. Actually, neither of us have stellar reputations. But he was always there for me. And I think that's got to count for something."

"Maybe, I don't know. I can't wrap my mind around it. I'm so tired that I can't think straight sometimes."

He looked her over in detail. Every time he did, his heart constricted painfully. She had come so close to dying from her wounds. The angry gashes on her arms ran deep. Now they were stitched up and hidden by clean bandages but he had carried her to safety. Her blood had soaked through his clothes.

"Charlie, you may not care what I think but I need to say it. Things ended abruptly between us and there is a lot that I still don't know. I need answers, Charlie. It doesn't matter if they don't make me happy. I think I just need to know. But before I ask you anything I need to say something. I was really angry at you when I found out who you were. I felt like I didn't know you at all. But when Lydia attacked you my world stopped. The thought of you dying…I don't know what I would have done. I just feel lost right now."

"You have every right to hate me. I lied to a lot of people. I'll try to answer your questions so go ahead and ask."

He almost went to touch her arm but thought better of it in the end.

"Charlie, I don't hate you. Not even close."

They talked for a few minutes. She explained how she had come to be part of the Militia. He learned she had been running away from him and Miles. Charlotte's life had been shaped by his orders. But most surprising was the fact she didn't hate him. He teared up slightly as she described how much his arrival in her life had meant to her sanity. She felt conflicted about him but treasured the moments they had spent together nonetheless.

After a while, he left her alone to rest. She had lost a lot of blood and she needed frequent naps to make it through the day. However, their talk had made him hopeful about the future. They could get through this, time helping.

He found Miles sulking with a bottle of moonshine.

"She'll come around, Miles. It's a lot to take in. She's mourning, pregnant, hurt, and now she finds out Ben was never really her father."

"I know. I know. I'm just frustrated. I have so much lost time to make up with her. And sometimes I doubt my own ability to make it right."

Bass poured himself a glass and sat in the grass next to Miles.

"This situation is temporary. Once we've managed to clean up the rebellion we'll move back to Philly. Charlie will get better and she will forgive you. I know she said some harsh things but you should understand better than anyone where she gets her temper."

A Lieutenant ran up to them with interesting news.

"General, we have a man named Jason in custody. He fits the description your daughter gave us. She insisted he saved her life on multiple occasions."

"Keep him in custody for now. I will think about what to do with him."

"Sir, with all due respect, your daughter insisted she wants to see him as soon as we find him."

"Lieutenant, you gotta ask yourself one question and one question only. Who are you more afraid of? Me or my bedridden teenager?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to question you."

"And trust me when I say this will not happen again. Dismissed!"

Bass laughed as the lieutenant left, tail between his legs.

"Something funny, Bass?"

"She's your daughter alright."

Miles raised an eyebrow.

"Oh come one, Miles. She's already scaring the crap out of them. You should be proud." Smiled Bass crookedly.

Miles sighed loudly.

"Half me, half Rachel, and a screwed up start at life to top it. Can't wait to see how she'll turn out."

"That sound like an explosive combination."

After a moment Bass added quietly

"I'm hoping you could stop referring to her as "my teenager" though. You make me feel like a creep."

"She's seventeen, Bass. She'll be a teenager for two more years. And you know I don't want you getting too close, which is why I will continue to remind you that my daughter is young and that you are not."

"That's too harsh, Miles. I told you I had no idea she was this young. And I can't take back what happened and how I feel."

"Too bad, Bass. Because you're going to have to back off a bit."

Miles Matheson got up and said:

"I'mma go take a peek at that Jason boy. Are you coming, creep? Or should I start referring to you as "Uncle Bass"?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

They questioned him for over an hour. In the end they agreed Jason could see Charlie as long as they were present.

Once Jason was out of earshot, Bass showed more reserve.

"I'm not so sure it's a good idea to encourage their friendship."

Bass looked a tad pissed. Jason had repeated over and over that they were old friends and that he had tried to protect her from Davidson. The green monster showed its head. Charlie obviously had the boy wrapped around her finger.

They escorted Jason to Charlie's tent where they spent the next hour witnessing their emotionfilled reunion. Charlie looked happier than Bass had seen her in days. He found himself envying how close Jason seemed to Charlie. Before they left with Jason, Charlie demanded that Jason be pardoned of any crime against the Republic, reinstated in the Militia and given a higher rank if he desired it. Miles, who was desperately trying to win her over, agreed to her terms.

Right before they left, Jason leaned towards Charlie and whispered something in her ear. She watched him leave in silence, her mouth noticeably open in surprise.

Bass almost demanded to know what he had said but thought better of it at the last moment. Acting jealous would not get him in Charlie's good graces. He didn't know her that well but he could tell she would not find that kind of behavior endearing. As a military strategist he knew that subtlety mattered more than brute strength. Letting your enemy win a battle was sometimes necessary to win the war.

A week later, they started their journey back to Philadelphia. Jason now held the rank of Captain of the Militia. They had given him a fine horse and a brand new uniform awaited him in his Philly quarters. Unmarried ranking officers had the option the live in a house divided into apartments a block away from Independence Hall. They had staff to look after them and running water in the bathrooms.

As the carriage where she was comfortably sitting moved, Charlie thought back to what Jason had said to her.

You say the word and I'll get us out of here. I'm not leaving you.

She wondered what he had really meant by that. Jason had feelings for her, she knew that much, but how far was he willing to go for her sake? Their return to Philly was bound to be eventful.


	17. Chapter 17

Ahaaa! Jealousy!

As they journeyed home, Jason managed to spend a lot of time with Charlie despite the higher ranking officers giving heaps of work. Few people in the Militia were thrilled at this turn of events, as deserters were never granted leniency, never mind a shove up the power ladder. Officers made it abundantly clear to their generals that doing Jason a favor was not only unfair to the other hard-working soldiers, but also risky as hell. The consequences that followed desertion needed to be final—not jovial—for the sake of discipline and cohesion. Despite all the unglamorous and arduous tasks given to him, many beneath his rank, Jason could often be seen visiting Charlie during the evening or riding next to her carriage during the day. The military convoy made regular stops along the way that lasted several days: doctor's orders.

Charlie was steadily healing but the advancing state of her pregnancy and the sweltering heat brought about a few complications of their own: suspected anemia, lightheadedness, sleeping troubles, and many other small things that left her a bit red in the face. Most men would still find her lovely to contemplate. The wounds and bruises on her face had healed quite nicely and her skin was now sun-kissed and radiant. Her arms were still tightly bandaged and her midsection showed an obvious bump. However, she managed to look young yet mature, strong yet vulnerable, and sexy as hell. At least, that's how she looked to Bass. He had no doubt Jason felt the same way, and he hated it. In spite of his best efforts, Bass had only managed to keep the green-eyed monster at bay for the first week. Really, he had tried to contain it, but that prick would not let her be even for a minute. On top of that, Miles had also taken to spending time talking and getting to know his daughter, meaning some more work fell on Bass's lap. Somehow he kept getting the short hand of the stick. And he was sick of it, all the while missing her.

When he actually got the time to go see her, Miles would often make snide remarks at his best friend. Miles wouldn't like for any man to be interested in his daughter. Bass figured he probably wouldn't like the fact that Jason was often visiting her but that sneaky bastard made sure Miles didn't see him. The young captain was far less careful with Bass, almost taunting him.

One night, Bass managed to go see her for half an hour before getting back to work in the command tent. As he left, he saw that Jason wasn't far away. His mood turned dark and Miles's usual unwelcome comments felt like the last straw after an overwhelmingly bad day. For once he actually fought back.

"Oh go to hell with your 'holier than thou' attitude, Miles! When did you become such an ass?"

"How about when I found out you were with my daughter?"

"Exactly, Miles! I knew her before you! Who the fuck do you think you are, acting like I took your precious little girl? I was dating her long before you found out and I have every right to see her whenever the fuck I want! Because I gave a damn before you ever did. And if not for Rachel finding her, perhaps you never would have given a damn at all!"

The words felt wrong as soon as they left his lips. That was a cruel thing to say to his brother, but he had said it anyway. Too much of Miles's time was spent contemplating his own little feelings. He should care more about what Bass was going through. The Mathesons had an infuriating tendency to stare at their own navel a little too hard. Although he had yet to observe that trait in Charlie, who asked as many questions as she gave replies. He was done trying to hide it, because otherwise someone else would take his place at her side.

"That's not fair, Bass. You know how I was after we found out who she was. How can you say that to me now?"

"I could ask you the same question, Miles. And if it's not me, someone else will get close to her and 'take' her away from you. It's not like no one else is trying."

"What do you mean? Who are you talking about?"

Bass felt even angrier when he saw the look of confusion on his face. Miles had kept a close eye alright, but only on him. Bass was seen as the sole threat.

"Nevermind that. I'm out. Clean the shit from your eyes; it mustn't be easy being so fucking blind."

With these words he left the tent, determined to cool it before he said more things he would later come to regret.

Charlie was feeling increasingly frustrated. As everyone knew, the heat made her feel faint at times. However, something else was causing most of her discomfort these days, and she had managed to keep it hidden from the doctor. With the nausea and morning sickness mostly gone, her libido had made a full comeback. Actually, calling what she felt a comeback was not entirely accurate: she had never felt so horny in her entire life. She had heard before that hormones could change a woman, but sometimes she didn't even feel like herself.

During the day she often caught herself fantasizing about sex. At first the daydreams had been mostly about Bass. He was her prime candidate for daytime fantasies with his unruly curls and growing beard. Usually he looked clean-shaven and his clothes always appeared freshly laundered. Out on the road, his uniform was worn casually and his hair and beard were growing unchecked. Charlie felt so silly but there was just something about it that drove her wild. She loved it, and all she wanted to do was jump on him. Unfortunately he probably didn't find her as attractive with her ugly scarred arms and protruding midsection.

Then there was Jason. He was always around, much more so than Bass. He too had carved out a place for himself in her mind. She couldn't help herself: he was attractive, very manly, and she cared about him. Moreover, he kept on touching her during his visits. It was nothing scandalous, a touch to the face here, and a hand squeeze there. Nonetheless, they were enough to fuel her desires. Charlie could tell he wanted her, and she knew that deep down she wanted Bass. But she was young and weathering a hormonal storm; that succeeded in making her just ambivalent enough to let him have his little moments and not telling him off.

That evening Bass had come to say hello for a few minutes. Ever since he had found out who she was, he had refrained from kissing her or touching her. He treated her platonically. She wasn't sure why entirely, though she could guess the whole situation certainly called for a cooling-off. Things were bound to evolve after they returned to Philadelphia. Still, his visits never failed to leave her wanting for more.

To her surprise Jason came very soon after Bass left, almost crossing paths. They talked like usual but she felt something was different this time. He sat closer, casually touched her more often. At least it seemed that way to her. She could hardly concentrate on the conversation. All she wanted was for someone to satisfy her urges. These days strong, good-looking men caught her eye more easily than ever before.

"Charlie?"

He looked at her, half amused and half concerned.

"What?" She hadn't heard a word.

"You haven't been listening at all, have you?"

She looked up contritely.

"Guilty", she pleaded with an apologetic smile.

He took her hand.

"Charlie, you can always talk to me. Something's on your mind, I can tell."

"It's nothing, really. Don't worry about it."

He sighed and kissed the hand he was holding.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. She had trouble appearing detached at this point. God, why did he have to do this? Even kissing her hand made her blush.

He smiled, knowing she wasn't indifferent to him. He leaned in, knowing she would most likely accept him. He kissed her but she didn't respond. After a couple of second she leaned away.

"Jason, I don't think this is right. You have to stop."

"Why? Don't you want this? It doesn't seem like you don't want it."

"Jason, I think I really like you, but more as a friend. I know my feelings are a bit confused but they shouldn't be. Not about this, not about you."

He sourly took his hand away.

"That's how you see me, isn't it? I'm the friend. I'm never anything else to you."

"I'm sorry, Jason. Don't be like that!"

"I have to go, Charlie. I have things to do anyway. But I'll still come around. You should really start looking at me differently. I can give you things he can't."

"What are you talking about?"

"Charlie, you know exactly what and who I am talking about."

She watched him leave, feeling both proud of herself for keeping a relatively cool head and ashamed for hurting someone who means a lot to her.

Meanwhile, Bass had actually decided to come back to Charlie after his fight with Miles. But Jason was there, and what he had tried to do made his blood boil. He hadn't seen any of the exchange between the two, but what he heard told him more than enough. He had trouble staying hidden, all the while hoping Charlie would reject him. Bass felt like his heart could get broken again at any moment. He waited outside, out of sight, his heart beating fast in fear. He was incredibly jealous and afraid that Jason would succeed in making Charlie choose him. Why shouldn't she? He was close to her age, good looking (although Bass couldn't really see how), and with a bright future ahead of him. At that instant, Bass's fogged brain told him all the wrong things, failing to remind him that he could offer her a lot as well.

Charlie's choice felt a bit too hesitant to put his mind at ease. He wanted to turn away and leave her be but he couldn't. He wouldn't be able to sleep if he left now with all these uncertainties.

Charlie almost fell in surprise when she saw him come in so soon after Jason left. They really kept on almost crossing paths. His eyes looked lost and tortured. He never seemed more vulnerable than in the precise moment he halted right after coming in, looking at her with questioning, almost pleading eyes.

"Charlie"

That word alone said it all. She knew he had heard the whole thing.

He took a few steps and let himself fall on the cot, facing her but not looking at her directly.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that."

"It makes sense though…you wanting to be with him."

"No, Bass. I don't."

He finally properly looked at her and she saw the anger that was also present in his gaze.

"You seemed to have a pretty hard time saying no there."

"It's complicated. Jason is my oldest friend. Saying no to him is hard. I don't want to hurt him."

"But you have no trouble hurting me."

"Hurting you? How have I ever hurt you?!"

He looked annoyed, like a surly child who found it beneath him to explain the obvious. He looked at her defiantly.

"Then I'm sure you won't mind this," he said gruffly before taking her face in both hands and kissing her slowly.

The moment his lips touched hers, he felt most of the angry melt away to the sensation. He let go of her face to put an arm around her back, his other hand going to the nape of her golden wavy hair.

She knew he was testing her. If she rejected him he would be hurt, sad, and more jealous of Jason than ever. But in a way it would also be wrong not to reject him. Somewhere, a little voice in the back of her mind told her she should reject him by principle: no petty behavior prompted by jealousy should be tolerated from a grown man.

Yet she couldn't bring herself to do just that. This scene was exactly the kind of thing she had fantasized about during the last couple of weeks. He would kiss her with passion and yearning and then they would certainly go further.

Bass almost expected her to push him away and be upset with him. He had not anticipated that she would respond and yank him further along. She snuck her still fragile hands carefully into his hair and let out a small sigh.

Taken aback, he pulled away and took a good look at her.

She caught her breath before complaining "Is something wrong?"

She looked ready to pounce on him, extremely frustrated. Her complaint paired with the sensual mien on her slightly flushed face made his pants feel somewhat tighter at the crotch.

This time she pulled him to her by the shirt and kissed him, short-circuiting any coherent thought attempting to form in his head.

His body pressed against hers, making her lean back, as he deepened the kiss. His hands went to her sides, under her shirt.

Giving in completely to his urges, he quickly began unbuttoning her shirt. She stopped him just as he got to her belly.

"Please don't."

She didn't want him to see her.

He let go of her shirt and kissed her again, whispered next to her ear:

"Don't you know that baby is mine? You're both mine, don't you ever forget it. And don't ever feel that you can't show me everything you are."

He left wet kisses travelling down her throat, pausing to feel the weight of her breasts encased in a plain white cotton bra.

Nonetheless, he left the rest of her shirt alone and started working on taking her pants off.

Once again, she wrapped her arms around his arms and kissed him before replying:

"I just want you so badly."

Those words felt like the best ones he had ever heard in his entire life. She tugged slightly on his belt and he got the hint. Getting up quickly, he made quick work of his half opened shirt, pants, and boots.

Bass kissed her deeply, and, in that moment, he felt like the happiest person in the world, like nothing could go wrong. Perfectly happy to be here with her, sharing intimacy her in ways no one else was allowed to.

Afterwards he helped get dressed for the night, pausing very often to steal a kiss from her. He never wanted this moment to end. They stayed a while together, not talking much, enjoying the moment in companionable silence. Bass snuck out into the night after giving her one final kiss, to which she responded sweetly, a smile on her face. Surely, this was heaven.

Miles acted like nothing had happened between him and his brother. He didn't get angry anymore but he didn't apologize either. Instead, he finally took notice of Jason and his continuing interest in Charlie. He resolved to send him on his first mission as a captain once they reached the capital: taking out an infamous gang working in Chicago. That would take his daughter out of his sights; when it came to her, the further the better. He would not be back for some time.


	18. Chapter 18

Settling Down with Dread

Nothing noteworthy occurred during the remainder of their journey back to Philadelphia. They rode hard and fast since Charlie could now ride on a horse—both Generals felt uneasy about leaving their city without one of them in charge for too long. Once they rode through the fortified city gates, a lot of things happened very fast. Charlie was moved once more into Independence Hall, Jason was sent out to Chicago for his first mission, and both her father and Bass (Referring to him as her boyfriend or lover made her cringe) went back to work. They disappeared for hours on end, holding meetings and hearing reports from all over the country. Keeping up with the affairs of their Republic was paramount.

Charlie, on the other hand, felt quite bored. Everyone she knew worked like mad and Jason would be gone for a long time. Dreading spending so much time alone, she had argued the necessity for him to be leading that mission. Miles had acted like an authoritarian prick, shutting down the conversation at once. Even though she now thought of him as her father their relationship remained awkward and a bit distant. Yet Charlie did not exactly feel the need to deepen their bond. Learning to live without a family had been a tough lesson, but she had learned it. Her ability to care and to truly bond with relatives had apparently vanished on the day of her brother's death. She thought her heart seemed stronger now, albeit a little stonier. Her mother was a prisoner somewhere in Philly, but she felt no hurry to start snooping for clues. To be completely honest, a feeling a numbness had slowly crept in ever since that awful day. Now and then, she caught herself thinking life had no meaning if good people died while the wicked lived. If not for her baby, Charlie might have fallen even deeper into the pit of depression. Protecting and raising that person was reason enough to live for now. Her feelings for anyone else seemed to have been swallowed ever since they had returned. They felt distant. She tried to cover her lack of happy feelings as best as she could. Bass did not deserve to be brought down by her gloominess.

Physically, she felt perfectly alright now. A doctor had removed her bandages, revealing the jagged lines marring her smooth skin. They were slowly losing their angry red colour, becoming pinker and pinker as the days came and went. The first time she had seen them uncovered her eyes had been unable to look away. She had stared at those raised red marks like she had never seen such a thing before. Survival is not cheap, she mused. Feeling like a proud soldier showing off her battle scars, she walked around in short sleeves and didn't care if anyone found them distasteful or disgusting to look at.

Dying to get out of her residence for a while, Charlie suggested to her doctor that she come to the hospital instead of the reverse. She made a day of it; touring the hospital and the different facilities surrounding the main building. These days she only needed to ask. Charlotte Matheson had very suddenly become a powerful name, the kind that opened doors without so much as a second glance. She resolved to go back from time to time to learn more about the hospital, she had found

the staff to be very nice and interesting to converse with. Perhaps she could find something useful to do there. Keeping busy made her feel much happier—no time to contemplate her feelings.

At Independence Hall, she had been given a luxurious suite located not far from Miles and Bass. She had a huge walk-in closet, a nice bathroom with running water (and a tub), and a room with a huge bed. Late in the evening, Bass would often come by for a visit. He worked for endless hours, barely taking the time to eat or sleep. Sometimes they made love, and at other times he would fall on the bed, too exhausted to do anything. He didn't always spend the night. Charlie didn't mind when he did, as long she had enough space to sleep comfortably. These days, comfort always came out on top. Carrying a baby was no walk in the park. Her movements were becoming more awkward and she felt incredibly vulnerable.

During one evening, Bass had mentioned their future together. He wanted to get married as soon as possible. In the Monroe Republic, recognizing a child out of wedlock was difficult. Bass was no ordinary citizen but he still wanted to do things as traditionally as they could be. Charlie, on the other hand, felt to rush to officialize their relationship. The child is hers. She sometimes resented the fact that she could not give him or her her own last name. Additionally, she would become Charlotte Monroe once they tied the knot. She felt no hurry at all, responding vaguely to his proposals. Bass sensed her hesitation but refrained from commenting on it. He felt too dog-tired to start an argument.

Sometimes he still felt pangs of anxiety when he considered their relationship. To start, their age difference worried him. He would be an old man long before she showed any signs of ageing. Would she stay with him then? Would she even end up choosing him now? She rarely expressed her feelings, positive or negative. She never told him she missed him, never told him she liked him or loved him. Charlie never complained either. He only felt her affection during sex. However, Bass usually considered that anything conveyed during lovemaking tended to be an exaggeration of reality. At times, he pondered whether lack of sleep had any effect on his vision of the present situation. Possibly he could be reading too much into her behaviour. He hardly spent any time with her now and the death of her brother still weighed heavily on her mood. She still barely responded when the subject of marriage was brought on the table. Overall, he suspected Charlotte was deeply melancholic, even if she did not really show it to anyone.

Months went by as she prepared to become a mother. She spent time at the hospital, receiving training to care for her future infant. For now she could not be trained for anything else, as it might be dangerous for her health. She hoped for more in a few months.

One afternoon, she left the hospital feeling more tired than usual. A nap would restore her before dinnertime. Tonight, Bass and Miles had announced they would all eat together instead of the now usual dinner she ate served off a tray in her room. She woke up a couple of hours later feeling sore and heavy-lidded. The small of her back ached noticeably and she feared she would go into labor sooner than expected. The baby was supposed to be due next month. All the same, she decided to chase the thought from her mind while she dressed. The training she had received made her hypersensitive to potential clues. She silently ordered her child to stay inside and behave. She mocked herself and joked out loud that it was probably never too early to assert her authority. Even if Bass wanted to be a father he would have no time to raise a child alongside her.

She came down for dinner looking more cheerful than she had in a while. The pain did not subside and she talked more than was her habit to occupy her mind. She longed to be in her warm bed, comfortable and resting. Her back was really killing her now; the dining room had never seemed more unappealing than today. Usually, she rejoiced at the idea of having dinner in the dining room, feeling grateful for the company. Today she wanted to go back to her room as quickly as possible. She almost didn't manage to hide a sigh of relief when her father and Bass regretfully announced they were expected in another part of the city for the rest of the evening.

Bidding her good night, they left through the front door, a couple of guards following them dutifully. Charlie went back to her room and sank in the soft mattress.

Bass and Miles, while they had let on they were needed for work, were actually heading for a local bar. Both men had decided Strausser's birthday was the perfect occasion to knock back a few and enjoy some free time. They had both silently agreed to keep their evening plans vague in front of Charlie. The bar where they had decided to spend the evening tended to be a little wild. Its reputation was far from spotless. The infamous bar was known for its hard liquor, its brawls, and its women. Miles regularly found his flavour of the night there. Bass had used to do the same thing. Needless to say he felt slightly guilty for going there, and even guiltier for not telling Charlie.

During the middle of the night, Charlie was awakened by a sudden wave of pain. Suppressing a moan of discomfort, she looked at the clock: 2:30 at night. Silently she stepped into Bass's room down the hall. His bed had not been disturbed since the morning, looking crisp and perfect following the maid's daily duties. Next she went to her father's room to find it just as empty. Down the hall, one of the guards asked her from afar if she needed anything. She shook her head slightly and returned to her own room. Slipping back under the soft covers, she started counting the time that went by between each contraction. She knew when she was supposed to call for the doctor. The staff would wake him up for her. As she looked around her empty room, she mused about this particular night. This baby had decided to show up on the only night Bass and Miles were absent. She smiled softly. Perhaps he or she thought Charlie could do just fine on her own. Yes, she said softly to the emptiness, she would be just fine on her own. Let them be where they may, she decided she didn't really care.

Gasping, she felt another contraction coming on. She kept as silent as she could. Once the pain retreated a bit she started counting again.


	19. Chapter 19

The Legacy of a Good Man

She had probably overdone it. Maybe she had waited a little too long before alerting someone. By the time she decided to call for someone, she had to yell from her bed because she could no longer step out of it. That baby was clearly not going to wait for anyone. The doctor, a rather elderly man, walked in briskly. The poor man had been roused from his sleep without ceremony; his night shirt peeked under his coat and his bed hair stood at the back of his head. Charlotte's appearance was no improvement over his. Her hair clung to her temples in wet strands and her red face expressed all the pain she was experiencing.

With one suspicious look he checked under her dress.

"Ms. Matheson, How long did you mean to wait until you told someone?" he exclaimed reproachfully.

"Uhm. About this long?"

"You have been in labor for some time already or this is the fastest labor of my career. Young lady, you're lucky that baby is already in a proper position for birthing!"

"Doctor, I really don't have the strength to argue with you right now. You can yell at me all you want once it's out of me!"

He rolled his eyes and set about preparing for the birth. Servants were requisitioned and given detailed orders. After giving a more thorough examination, he declared the head would be crowning soon.

A maid came in to ask Charlie if she had sent someone to announce the imminent birth to the Generals.

Dumbfounded, Charlotte responded between too labored breaths.

"I thought someone would have gone already!"

"Let me go check with the guards."

Meanwhile, Bass and Miles were enjoying live music and cool drinks, far from imagining the series of events occurring at Independence Hall.

A messenger came rushing in and practically ran to their table.

Bass was the only one who noticed; Miles was busy talking to a woman standing at the counter. The blonde man gave them an amused look.

"Take a breath, boy. You look like you just ran the Boston marathon."

The lad must have given him a puzzled look because Bass sighed, exasperated:

"Another Blackout baby, aren't you?"

"I'm 16 years old, sir"

"All this culture lost forever, it makes me really sad."

"Sir, I have an urgent message for you and the General."

"Something going down at the Hall?"

"Sir, it appears Ms. Matheson had gone into labor."

Bass's mien went white as a sheet. His only response was to stagger out the booth, grab Miles, and run towards the door.

They could hear her scream as they ran to her room. A guard barred the door.

Miles went up to him, his full height on display as he stood even straighter than usual.

"Why aren't you getting out of the way?"

The guard had not moved an inch since the General had appeared at the end of the hall.

"I apologize, sir. The doctor has ordered that I keep anyone that is not essential out of the room."

Bass angrily yelled that he had the right to be inside the room for the birth of his child. The guard seemed incredibly uncomfortable about going against the will of the highest ranking officer in the Republic.

"Sir, they need all the space they can get in there."

As he uttered the words, another series of cries came from the other side of the heavy wooden door.

As white as a ghost, Bass took a step away from the door and asked no one in particular:

"How long has she sounded like that? She sounds like she's in some much pain. What is wrong?"

The guard looked both sympathetic and uncomfortable.

"I don't know anything about babies but everything sounded fine until a few minutes ago. The doctor came out and told me to keep everyone that was not necessary out. He mentioned you specifically."

The umbilical cord was wrapped around the baby's neck. Charlotte had started panicking and her exhaustion made everything a little more complicated. She could only feel pain and fear. The doctor was talking to her but she could barely make out what he was saying.

"Charlotte, I've got it out of the way. When I say and only when I say, you push with all you've got, understand?"

She had sunk into the pillow behind her, a sweaty and pale mess. Her eyes were closing.

Unwilling to let her get her way, he made her breathe in something very strong and unpleasant that whipped her into consciousness. He repeated the instructions. She nodded tersely before sitting up a bit straighter, her face looking more determined than ever. She took a deep breath. There was no way to keep the cries from escaping her lips.

At last, Bass and Miles heard the cries of a newborn from the other side of the door. The three men, the guard included, both let out a deep breath of relief.

After a little while a maid came out, holding a tiny baby wrapped in a blanket. Bass held out his arms instinctively.

"It's a little boy, sir."

"How is Charlie?" asked Miles.

Bass was completely absorbed by the tiny wrinkly face.

The maid cast a worried glance over her shoulder towards the closed door and replied she didn't know. Miles looked about ready to keel over.

"Can we see her?"

The maid went back inside to check with the doctor. He came out to talk with the Generals.

Charlie was not presently conscious. The birth had started out fine but the end had proved laborious for her. She had bled quite a bit but he had managed to stop the flow. Bass look him up and down and noticed blood stains. Charlotte was resting so they would clean up the baby and monitor her condition. She had named him Benjamin. He took the birth certificate out his front pocket. The name Benjamin Daniel Matheson was penned in elegant cursive. Bass raised a brow at the last name but refrained from saying anything. Now was not the time to worry about the little things.

They came into the room and sat by her side. The bedsheets had been replaced but the metallic smell of blood lingered. Her lips lacked colour but her chest was rising rhythmically and the doctor reassured them that she would be alright.

She woke up a bit later and drank thirstily before demanding that they give her Ben. Bass's eyes were fixated on her face, silently looking for any sign that her condition was worsening. He fluffed her pillows so she could sit up and take their new baby boy. They had barely exchanged two sentences. This moment was too significant for words. Miles who had been standing at the foot of the bed came closer to watch the baby. He discreetly looked away when she uncovered her breast and coaxed Ben into latching on. Bass covered her with a light shawl and kept his hand on the baby's head, caressing his soft hair. Bass and Charlie spent the rest of the night in the same bed with Ben in a crib next to her. When Charlie and Ben fell asleep Bass let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding in. Truth be told, he had been truly afraid of being left alone again.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter XX: The Little Girl You Once Were

During the night of Ben Matheson's birth, Bass took a long time to fall asleep. He tossed and turned, constantly listening to the baby's breathing. The lines between dream and memory became blurred as night turned into dawn.

 _He dreamed of the first time he had heard Charlotte's name. They had been deployed for the second time only a few months before. Miles and Rachel had parted ways some time ago; nonetheless his brother had taken the news of her pregnancy pretty hard. Doubts about the father remained in Miles's mind. Rachel, tired of hearing her former lover rave about the possibilities, mailed him a paternity test showing Ben was indeed the baby's father. Of course, everyone was now aware she had forged it. One day, Miles received a phone call from his brother Ben. A baby girl named Charlotte had been born late into the previous evening. Later, Miles received an email with pictures. Bass had looked distractedly over Miles's shoulder. The only thing he remembered clearly was her blues eyes._

The second time he closed his eyes, the scene of the first time he met her as a toddler replayed in his head. Memories of events he had not thought about for many years before flooded back.

 _It had been the worst year of his life. He had come back from the Middle East, excited to see his parents and sisters. Two nights later, they would be gone forever; taken away by a drunk driver. He had chosen to spend that night chasing after girls with Miles, missing family movie night. Miles needed to get over Rachel and he wanted to meet someone new and fun. For a long time he regretted not dying alongside his family in the car. After Miles found him about ready to commit suicide, he decided not to leave his side for a while. Miles saved him. That year he celebrated Thanksgiving with the Matheson family at Ben's country house. Charlie was about two years old and Rachel was pregnant again with a baby boy. This time, however, there was no possibility of the baby not being Ben's. Miles and Rachel had called it quits more than two years ago; their longest breakup so far. Bass remembered how excited the little girl had been about the food and decorations. For a little while, he had forgotten about his own problems. He had sat at the table, surrounded by people he had known his whole life, and the day had taken on an air of normalcy. He remembered feeling almost happy, watching an innocent little girl running around happily, without a single care in the world. Children made the world go round._

This time, he woke up because Ben was fussing in his crib. He watched Charlie reach for the baby and put him to her breast, as if she had done it a thousand times before. In the dark, he stared at her turned back. The baby was now a mother.

He fell asleep again.

 _After the Blackout, Miles had been desperate to reach them. His parents had died a few years back and Bass had no family left. His brother, niece, and nephew were his whole family. Miles was Bass's family. So he followed him all the way to Chicago. Their house stood abandoned. They could be anywhere now. Miles had sat on the edge of an unmade pink bed in the children's shared bedroom, snivelling and whimpering quietly for a while._

He got up again to use the adjoining bathroom. Padding back to bed, he glanced at the clock. He should have been at work by now, but he was too exhausted to even think about getting dressed. At first, his next dream seemed to have broken the night's pattern.

 _He remembered his first visit to a Militia recruitment facility. It was an old boat floating on a lake in the middle of nowhere. Once useless, it was now considered a perfect piece of infrastructure. They housed and broke new recruits, mainly teenagers and young adults. There was nowhere for them to run to, and most kids didn't know how to swim well nowadays_. _The "Ship", as they called it, was known for its brutal methods. It was famous for breaking even the most recalcitrant minds. Bass had made the journey to observe their fine work first-hand. The kids were very badly treated: the food was scarce and insipid, the beatings were frequent, and the psychological conditioning was an absolute masterpiece. He could remember feeling impressed as the new soldiers awaited his orders patiently; they could have heard a pin drop. Bass also recalled vividly the branding station. He observed, hidden from view, as the young men and women came and went. Most cried after, but they did not fight it. The only one who did was a very young woman. She was blonde and couldn't have been more than fifteen years old. She had looked up defiantly, her bright blue eyes silently telling them to fuck off._

This time, he awoke with a start. He had not remembered it until now, but the young girl he had watched get branded by force was his Charlie. He was sure of it now. He got out of bed and headed to his study. He needed time to process the information. Would he ever be brave enough to tell her what he had been witness to? He had watched the woman he loved go through a tremendous amount of pain and humiliation. She has suffered alongside all the other recruits. And he had done nothing. Younger Bass had been impressed and very proud of his army. In his report, he had written about the necessity to replicate their process in order to grow the Militia more quickly. At the time, the threats made by the new Georgian government had been his only preoccupation. All the while, Charlie was living a nightmare.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter XXI: Missing your Touch

Bass came into Miles' office to find him cooing at Ben, clearly ignoring his work. Miles cooing to anyone was an incredibly odd sight to witness, and for a second Bass felt as though he had just stepped into an alternate reality. He cleared his throat loud enough for Miles to snap out of it.

Miles looked up, clearly already aware of his brother's presence. "You got something to say, Bass?"

The blond man failed to conceal a smirk. "I never thought I'd ever see you so…." He searched for the right word "…grandfatherly". His grin grew wider still.

Miles stood up to settle Ben back in his crib, unsmiling. Weighing every word, he replied slowly: "Careful, Bass. You tell anyone you saw me like that and I will make sure Charlie knows your dirtiest secrets. I'm not joking."

Bass held up his hands in mock surrender. "You got me there. Charlie knowing all my bachelor secrets might hinder my future plans. Your secret's safe with me."

They worked for a few hours in the office, watching over Ben at the same time. He had just turned six months old. Charlie's milk was starting to run dry and she was about ready to do something else besides being a mother. The past six months had been a blur. Too many dirty diapers and too little sleep. Now that Ben was old enough, Charlie had agreed to have Ben watched by family members and nannies while she began a new personal project: becoming an army medic. But first, she had to get back into shape. Having Ben had not made her really fat, and breastfeeding him had taken care of any extra weight leftover. However, she had not run or carried anything heavier than a baby in a very long time. Physical training was a must. Miles and Bass didn't really understand why she wanted to train for this position in particular but they had agreed anyway. She had been getting a bit restless.

So, while Charlie was sweating bullets, Miles and Bass watched Ben. Later, they dropped him off with Rachel, who had been allowed weekly visits with her grandson. Nobody had ever seen Rachel so mollified by anything. She was known to eagerly await Wednesday afternoons.

Charlie's relationship with her family was becoming a bit less complicated. Miles had found his place in her life, mainly as her son's grandfather. Hearing that her mother was alive was different than seeing it with her own eyes. But she had eventually gotten over it. Ben had somehow glued the Matheson family back together. Every Sunday they took Ben to visit Danny's grave. Charlie brought him flowers every single time. She would never stop missing him.

For a few months, Charlie's relationship with Bass had taken a secondary place in her life. They acted mainly as parents. Sometimes she could see Bass glance at her with longing, but she never once made mention of it. Almost three months after Ben's birth she had been declared fit for physical activity. The healing process had lasted for longer than what was considered average. But Charlie had trouble looking at her own body. She didn't feel like herself, and didn't want to be touched by Bass. The situation made her sad, but she could not get over it. He had not seen her naked for some time and she felt sure he would not find her attractive once he did. Maybe she would feel better once she got back into shape.

Bass, on the other hand, felt taken aback by Charlie's behaviour. He did not really understand it. More than once, he had opened his mouth to ask her why but she had shut him down immediately by changing the subject. Right after Ben's birth, Bass had imagined that he would soon be proposing to Charlie. He had a ring hidden in a locked desk drawer. For now, he had held off on asking her to marry him. Taking such an important step felt wrong in the current state of their relationship. Ben had taken a few months to sleep through the night and Bass could not afford to be constantly sleep deprived, so they had started sleeping in separate bedrooms. Nevertheless, they were nice to each other in a platonic way. They started acting more like friends than lovers. This development was a common occurrence in old married couples with children: life got in the way. Intimacy and romantic love took a big step back. Bass resolved to do something to break the strange spell that had been cast over them. They could not go on like this forever. Tonight he would exceptionally ask Rachel to watch his son for the night. He wanted Charlie's full attention.

She came back to her room, her hair still wet from the shower, her entire body feeling incredibly sore. Her muscles screamed with every step she took. Surprisingly, she found Bass sitting on her bed, waiting for her. He had that puppy look in his eyes. Charlie felt bad at the way she treated him, as if he were a friend, or an ex with whom she acted friendly for the sake of a shared custody. To sum it up, they acted a bit like their relationship was over. _Isn't that great?_ A voice in her head drawled sarcastically.

"Hey"

"Evening" she replied. Nightly visits were not really the norm lately.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed and she just stood there dumbly, not knowing where to put herself. The tension in the room was palpable.

"I need to talk to you."

"Okay" She felt dumber still.

"I don't really know what is going on between us, and, I guess I would like to understand what is happening here." He was carefully choosing his words. This was the serious conversation they had both silently dreaded for weeks.

Charlie wanted to sit comfortably. She could not stand there for hours.

"Could we sit?" she suggested in a low voice, showing the sofa and armchair by the fireplace.

So they sat, still not looking at each other directly.

She had to break the overpowering silence.

"I'm sorry, Bass."

He looked up, surprised. She really did look sad and apologetic.

"Why?"

"You are always the one chasing after me. Once again, I've pushed you away."

So she was conscious of it.

"But this time I didn't really chase after you. I don't know how we got to where we are today."

In truth, he also felt quite apologetic.

"At first, I was busy with Ben and exhausted. I still am, a bit. But, as time went on, I just couldn't take that step."

"Why couldn't you?" he dreaded the answer.

"I love Ben. I was already so damaged when he came. Now, I just don't recognize myself. You wouldn't either. No one would want to look at that."

A tear rolled down her face.

With one step, he took her face in his hands. He tilted it upward to look at her but her eyes looked away, refusing to meet his. She was fighting more tears.

He kissed her, still holding her face. She had no option but to accept it. He rested his forehead against hers.

They talked for a long time, well into the night. They didn't go further than kissing. Finally, they fell asleep on top of the bed covers, spooning. He loved her no matter how many scars she bore. He had made that very clear. Charlie needed to be reminded of that from time to time. He would help her feel better, and they would get back on track. Holding her again made him remember how much he had missed that sensation. Giving and getting affection was a big thing for Bass. Feeling her body against his and her soft breathing was almost like a drug.

Maybe he would ask her to marry him soon after all.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter XXII: El Hijo Escondido

A few months passed as Charlie trained, took care of her son, and slowly repaired her relationship with Bass. A little more than a month from now they would celebrate Christmas, and, this year, it would be the happiest Christmas they had spent in decades. For the first time since his family had died, Bass truly felt happy about his life. He had his brother-in-arms, his son, and his soon-to-be-wife. He was planning to propose on Christmas morning as a surprise. He had found an engagement ring in an antique shop in Philly and had hidden it in a locked drawer in his office.

On a cold morning Bass had gone up to the attic to find some old decorations to give to the staff. In a corner he found a few boxes of decorations that would cheer up the dining halls and bedrooms, but he kept on looking, curious as to what he would find in all these cardboard boxes. He felt like a kid on a treasure hunt. In one, he found some old pamphlets singing the praises of the guided tours Independence Hall had to offer. In another, he found trail maps of the surrounding area. He opened another one and found correspondence, dozens of letters. When he looked closer he saw they were Miles's old letters; some of them dated back more than ten years. He knew he shouldn't look at letters belonging to someone who was alive and well—reading someone's letters is generally permitted if the person is dead, but considered highly intrusive when the person is alive, not to mention someone you happen to know well. As he rummaged through, a particular address caught his eye. He didn't know Miles had kept in touch with people from their hometown. Bass felt the blood in his veins quicken. Why was Miles corresponding with his old high school girlfriend?

He hadn't thought about Emma in years. She had been Miles's girlfriend but she had cheated on him with Bass. Miles didn't know. He had buried that old guilt for years. They were eighteen and they had shipped out for basic training a few months later. Bass didn't think they would ever see each other again. He was dying with curiosity. Miles would never know if he read one. They were all already open.

He took the letter out. The paper was a bit yellow with age but it was unmistakably the type of paper that used to be manufactured before the Blackout. That type of paper had been impossible to find in the last few years. Bass has used the last of his precious stationery three years ago. He began reading with trembling fingers.

 _Dear Miles,_

 _I hope this letter finds its way to you unopened. I understand Bass has become more and more paranoid. People out here don't hear about Philadelphia very often, but when we do it's never good news. But I'm not writing to give you a lesson. My brother has failed to contact me in the past few months. I know you and I haven't written to each other in years but I don't know who else to ask. You know the situation. You helped me all those years ago and I am begging you to make good on your promise to help me hide Connor from him and to keep him safe far away from the Republic. I hope the silence from Mexico doesn't mean something bad has happened to him. Please, send someone to go check on my family. You can ask me for anything in return. Please, just keep our arrangement a secret. He can never know what happened._

 _I hope to receive a letter of reply soon._

 _E. Bennett_

Bass looked for a reply but found none. Who was Connor? Who were they hiding him from? And why did he have such a bad feeling about this letter?

He needed to find out.

That night he relaxed Miles with a few drinks before starting to question him. What he found out after a few hours horrified him to his core. Before dawn he had thrown the entire household into upheaval. As it turns out, Rachel had been privy to yet another fucked up plan to make him miserable. And, Miles was guilty of hiding his son from him for the past twenty-something years. Bass was forcing them to pack their bags; they would guide him in his search for Connor, his first born child. Christmas would have to wait. They might be gone for several months. He would ask Charlotte to marry him when he returned with the rest of his family. Until then, Miles and Bass had named Charlotte Head of State. She had full powers until they returned. The papers were hastily drafted and signed by all parties and, a few hours later, Charlotte bid her family farewell from the front steps of the house. Bass looked back as they rode away. Charlotte was holding Ben in her arms, trying to appear like everything is alright. She understood why he had to go, but she had told him she worried they would never come back. Nowadays travelling to Mexico was akin to taking a journey around the world. He truly hoped she was wrong, but he couldn't stand to sit on his ass while his son was out there somewhere. The wind had him already chilled to the bone and a few light snow flakes were forming in the grey November sky. In that moment he really hated Miles and Rachel for robbing him of his life, once again.

After a minute Charlie stepped back inside to the comforting warmth of the Great Hall. She slowly made her way to the President's office, still balancing Ben on her hip. Soon he would have an army of nannies to take care of him since she expected her new job as President of the Republic would likely require most of her time. However, for now, she would keep Ben with her. She could wait until tomorrow to start, couldn't she? She opened the high door and made her way silently to the huge mahogany desk. She sat down in the comfortable leather chair, settling Ben on her lap. For a few minutes the two pairs of eyes stared around at the office. The sun was slowly rising in the East.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter XXIII: Feel the Power

The journey to Connor's town in Mexico lasted a little over two months. Christmas was long gone. Charlie received official updates of their progress until they crossed the border. After that last contact they went completely silent. Charlie would be left to her own devices for a long time to come. Spring would come to pass and she would be the only person to witness Ben's first steps. She sent spies to Mexico to try to find out what had happened to her family. By the time she heard back from one of them, she had been in power for almost a year. Ben was a happy toddler who loved his mother and the people who took care of him. Charlie had found her voice and had overcome the first few tough months in power.

When all contact was lost Charlie had already worked as Head of State of a couple of months. She was now well acquainted with the inner workings of the government system put in place by Bass and her father. She had started pondering her role in in the current situation. Two paths were currently open in front of her. She could either restrain herself to the duties that were absolutely necessary to keep the status quo. Or, she could trust herself to make some changes in the way things were done. They had given her full powers, including changing the law. Charlie held both their powers as Head of State and Head of the armed forces. There virtually wasn't anything she couldn't do. There was no Vice President, no Congress, and no House of Representatives. No matter how she felt towards Bass and Miles, she had always felt that they could have taken better care of the Republic. Perhaps she could make the country into a place where she would feel safe to live and raise children. Charlie also hoped that Ben would not follow into their footsteps. He could do better.

She was currently working at establishing a new Bill of Rights for the people of the Republic. For the moment, she had received mostly positive feedback from citizens. Of course, there were always people who disliked losing their influence and power over others but their opinion didn't count. She did not feel guilty in the least when she limited the privileges of the Militia and re-established the right to a fair trial. As the number of trials skyrocketed in the Republic, courts reopened all over the place and former lawyers and judges went back to work after decades spent in the shadows. She also made a point to collaborate with engineers and scientists to bring back clean water and working sewer systems, first in Philadelphia, then in towns all over the country.

Charlie still felt hesitant towards one important subject: her status as president/dictator. There were neither checks nor balances to her rule. As a young student, Aaron Pittman had hammered their importance into her head. She could not let go of how uneasy she felt about her own unrestrained power. One nod and she could order a man be killed; one word and the whole city would burn. Such power felt unnatural. Yet, she felt that her unrivalled authority was exactly what had made all the recent change possible. Dictatorship was only good as long as its power was wielded by a good, wise person. Bass was much too unstable and her father was too violent. They had founded the Republic with good intentions but their inherent personal flaws had caught up to them.

She had been so busy with her new projects that Christmas almost snuck up on her. She became conscious of the passage of time when her secretary reminded her that she had yet to get a present for Ben. It had been almost a year. One of her spies had reported that two men and a woman had been taken prisoner by a Mexican drug cartel. They had been holding them for several months. The spy could not confirm whether all three were still alive. She sent Special Forces to extract them. Hopefully they would not be too late. She spent a quiet Christmas in Ben's company. Some days, she barely thought about the fact that her family was kept prisoner, maybe dead, in Mexico. On those days she was usually so busy that she barely had time to eat and sleep. On other occasions, they were all she could think about. She worried endlessly and cried, thinking that maybe she would never see them again. She would grow old and die behind the imposing mahogany desk. If that was really to become her fate she didn't know yet if Ben would follow in her footsteps, perhaps she would be the last dictator of the Republic.

Recently, there had been significant troop movements near the Republic's border with Georgia. She had tried to get in touch with Georgia's leader but no response had come; it appeared all diplomatic relations between the two nations had been severed. They were getting ready to invade, likely thinking the Monroe Republic was currently at its weakest, with no true leader in place. Georgia was sorely mistaken. Charlie had worked hard at maintaining and even improving the Militia. Discipline had been reinforced and working conditions had improved gradually over the last few months. Charlie's former position in the Militia had helped tremendously on that front. The hierarchy had accepted her more easily knowing she was not just a "simple" civilian. They were ready to kick Georgia's butt into Texas if need be. Some Plains Nation tribes had also tested the Republic's defences. They had been defeated easily and Charlie had sent Special Forces to neutralize the more dangerous regions. It was high time someone did something about the Plains. They were a problem: a cesspool of lawlessness, violence, and crime. The living conditions were abysmal and crossing them was usually avoided, which lengthened travelling time in many instances. Maybe she could even add to the Republic's territory in the process.

Charlie was starting to like her position. She absolutely missed her family but having influence and power was growing on her. There was so much she could do if she wished. There was so much to do, and so little time to do it. Meanwhile, Special Forces had travelled incognito to the Mexican border, and would come close to where they were kept prisoner any day now. Or so she had hoped.

After weeks of waiting, she had received a note saying that at least two of them were confirmed alive: Rachel and Miles. They could not confirm Bass's status. He had not been seen by anyone in several weeks. There was another young man with them. Charlie hypothesized they had probably found Connor after all. Her men had gotten all this information from servants and other staff working for the cartel. There was another piece of bad news: the cartel had sold them to the Mexican government. Help had come too late.


End file.
